


Tears of Blood

by Rogercat



Series: Tales of the Warg Rider [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Childbirth, Chronic Illness, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family Drama, Female Maedhros, Female Maeglin, Flashbacks, Gen, Gossip, Half-Siblings, Multi, Revenge, Reviews are welcomed, comments are welcomed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-05-04 13:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 32
Words: 98,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5335448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogercat/pseuds/Rogercat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Sequel to Sins of the Past) Rûsa is now mostly accepted into the Noldorin royal family despite his past as the Warg Rider, things are not over yet. Dangers are still around, and there is a risk that Rûsa's new life might even be destroyed by his own inner demons...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The invitation

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: Hello everyone and welcome to the third part in the Rûsa-AU. Because of some rather brutal and nightmarish events that will happen in this story, it will be rated as M for mature. The story’s title is an indication of that

Year 90 in the Fourth Age, at dawn in early spring. It was, in many ways, a perfectly normal beginning of a day in the city of Formenos. Some people were already up, while other still remained asleep. In short, nothing was out of order. Well, except for one small thing…

“Brother! Brother, wake up!” a young, female Elfling called to her older brother by 65 years. Still sleeping, Rûsa rolled over under his quilt so Cúwen slid off him and landed between him and the wall in the corner of the sleeping chamber where his bed stood.

“Uff! Hmf, brother, get up! It is morning, I know that you are awake!”

Barely hiding a smile, Rûsa glared at his younger half-sister as she tried to wake him up. Then, in a quick movement, he caught her in the hook of his arm.

“Got you. cutie.”

“Aaaah! Brother, let go of meeeee! You are cheating!” laughed Cúwen when Rûsa started to tickle her.

“Says the little lady who cheated in racing yesterday by riding on Snowflake while I had to run on my own two feet,” teased Rûsa before stopping to tickle her and instead ruffled her orange red hair that was such a contrast to her dark brown skin colour alongside her grey eyes, affectionately. The fourteen-year-old Elfling gave him a push in the chest that Rûsa barely felt because of his muscle mass, before climbing down from the bed.

“You are a over-grown giant, brother!”

Rûsa laughed as his sister hurried out from his sleeping chamber. He was used to Cúwen calling him that, seeing that he really was a giant beside her.

“Rûsa, Cúwen! Wake up, it is time for breakfast.” called Rog from the kitchen downstairs.

“I am coming, Rog.”

“Atto! I want pancakes for breakfast! Pleeeease?”

After a quick shower in the bath room beside his sleeping chamber, Rûsa dressed in his travel clothes. Made from strong fabric and leather, its neutral colours were in moss green and brown of well use to blend in with the others when he was travelling with the Wood clan.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“Slept well, Rûsa?” asked Rog when he spotted his stepson in the door flame, focusing on what he was cooking for breakfast. Rûsa, who was busy in finishing tying up the high ponytail that he could have today, nodded while calming avoiding Cúwen's playful head butt against his legs. The difference in age and height between the two half-siblings was the cause for a lot of interesting versions of a normal sibling duo playing together.

“Okey, Cúwen, that is enough. Your brother has a deadline to meet, he can not be late,” Rog finally said and easily lifted up his daughter by her belt so he could place her on a chair.

“Good morning, everyone.” greeted Maedhros as she entered the kitchen, her left hand resting on her growing belly. She was with child in the fifth month, having gotten pregnant late in the past autumn and thus would give birth to her third child in seven months in the coming autumn of this year.

“Good morning, my sweet Ruby.”

Rog gave Maedhros a kiss before moving out a chair for her, so she could sit down.

“This little one really seems to be an calm one, or maybe just one of the quiet sort. I have been able to sleep thought the whole night and did not have to worry about morning sickness during this pregnancy too…”

Maedhros rubbed her pregnant stomach with a tender look down. Her husband shared a smile, while Rûsa and Cúwen started to eat on their breakfast. It was nothing strange of seeing their parents talk about their unborn sibling like this, so it was actually rather normal in this family.

“Ammë, how come that it is Rûsa who will go to the city of Valmar on King Ingwë's invitation to the first Spring Ball there?” asked Cúwen after finishing eating her porridge. Maedhros drunk some of her tea before answering:

“Well, sweetheart. Your grandparents are currently in Tirion; your uncle Káno and I are busy in controlling Formenos for your grandfather until he comes back; your other uncles are either out hunting or visiting the Halls of Aulë; and Tyelpë is with Narvi in the Halls of the Forefathers for something I have forgotten…”

“And you need atto here at home because of your pregnancy!” added Cúwen with a smile, causing Rog to laugh softly at her logic. In reality, it was simply because of that he still was unused to do the duty of a royal even if he had been married to Maedhros for almost 60 years now.

“Besides, it is almost custom that someone in great-grandfather Finwë's family is present at the Spring Ball. Lucky, I will not be alone; according to the letters I got last week, Maeglin and Saira will be there too.” said Rûsa as he buttered his bread and added some honey on it for extra flavour.

“That remind me…” Rog remarked. “I think Ecthelion mentioned a new sort of rumour in Tirion…that there are some people who now claim that the only true way to heal the old riff between the Noldorin High King's three sons is by _a marriage between their grandchildren._ ”

Both Maedhros and Rûsa spit out their tea in shock, while Cúwen stared in disbelief on her father.

“Are those people seriously _high_ on something?!” Rûsa exclaimed. “I admit that it is not completely impossible, but out of us many grandchildren to the three sons of High King Finwë…so are Saira, Lindë, Cúwen and myself still in different stages of being _underage_ , so we can count out us four of question for the moment. Then we have our _unborn_ sibling that ammë currently is carrying under her heart, that is another 100 years to wait until coming-of-age for that little fellow once he or she is born. Last time I checked, Gil-galad is currently busy wooing a lady from the Greenwood where Thranduil ruled. Maeglin has shown over and over again that she does not want to be married. Tyelpë is married to Narvi since the Second Age, secret marriage or not. Finduilas and Celebrian are married too, so…that narrows down the options rather much in the long run. And that is not counting in future siblings or cousins that we might have!”

Rûsa lowed one finger for each person he mentioned, in the end only holding up his left little finger at finishing talking. Almost like the unborn baby was agreeing with her firstborn in this matter, Maedhros felt a tiny little kick. 

“We also have to think about the possibility that one of you youngsters might not even be drawn to the opposite sex at growing up and instead favour a relation with your own gender,” said Maedhros, somewhat uneasily, as she had known about these kinds of relationships between some of her own soldiers back in the First Age. While it was common back then because of Morgoth’s foul perversions slowly poisoning the unity of the Noldor, and the scarcity of ordinary male to female relationships because of constant war and death, here in Aman things were different, both morally and culturally. 

“Imagine the outrageous outcry from the Vanyarin Elves if they knew the truth about the relationship between Glorfindel and Ecthelion that started in Gondolin,” commented Rog calmly as he poured up some new tea for his wife and stepson. Rûsa only shrugged; he had not been unfamiliar with such relationships between the slaves in Angband. In fact, there had even been a couple of newly-arrived slaves over the years who had tried to start a sexual relationship with him in hoping to gain his favour or protection from the horrors in Angband, only for the more experienced slaves to quickly break that frail hope by telling the newcomers that Rûsa were not that sort of person. Neither would he be now.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_“You have really changed,_ _Rûsa.”_

_Rûsa froze in the middle of a dance step at suddenly hearing the unexpected voice, and tripped down on the floor because of the simple reason of losing his balance._

_“Ow! Maeglin? What are you doing here?” Rûsa asked at looking up and seeing her standing in a balcony in the upper part of the ballroom, having a perfectly good view on him from there._

_“There is a limit to how much tea and sweets I can stand to have at a afternoon tea gathering. It is nice on it own, but too much when it is many people.”_

_“And watching me is more fun?”_

_Noting that he had torn up the skin in his hand, Rûsa lifted up his hand against his mouth. Then, he got a small idea in how to possibly mess with Maeglin. Putting the hand close to his mouth while making it clear that she could see it all, he carefully licked away the blood. Over the last years since he had started to mature from a boy into a adult in not just height but also body, Rûsa had learnt that many She-elves and even a couple of male Elves found him sexually attractive just because of his feral aura and what many called good-looking in a wild, foreign way. Maybe not a precise ideal mix of Noldor and Avari features, but his dark red hair and black eyes tended to stand out._

_“Are you trying to flirt with me, silly?”_

_Maeglin emphasized her words by throwing a small throw pillow at him, thus knocking Rûsa to the floor again. Not that he minded, Cúwen tended to do the same in order to catch his attention or to make him look down on her._

_“Why not? It is not like that you are unfamiliar with me, at least.” he grinned, making Maeglin laugh in agreement._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

A knock on the front door was heard.

“Rûsa! It is time to leave now!” a voice called from the front door as the owner peeked inside the house. Smiling, Rûsa ate up the last of his bread. Then he rose, and grabbed his travel bag that he had left at the door. As he dressed in his boots and cloak, Snowflake came up with his hunting bow in her mouth.

“Wuof!”

Patting Snowflake's head, Rûsa took the hunting bow. It had been a so called sibling-gift from Rána and Valsûl to him at Cúwen's birth fourteen years earlier, as a sign of that Rûsa had a special role as his future siblings' protector when they grew up. Outside Maedhros and Rog, Rûsa would be the most important person in their lives during the first years. If he neglected that duty, then he would prove himself of not being responsible enough to be a good father either. In short, he would only give himself a lesser possibility for marriage in the Avarin culture as no independent Avari She-elf wanted a irresponsible husband as father to her future children. 

“Thank you, Snowflake.”

As Rûsa finished dressing in his outdoor clothing, his family came up to him.

“Have a safe journey now and enjoy yourself with your friends, sweetheart,” said Maedhros with a smile and kissed his forehead. Rog had picked up Cúwen in his arms, so she could hug Rûsa more close to his own level.

“Watch ammë for me while I am away, ok, Cúwen?”

“Yes…”

Then, without warning, Cúwen started to cry. She had rarely been without her older brother in her young life and did not really like the idea of him being gone for a whole month.

“There, there, little moon, no need to be sad. A month will pass by quickly,” soothed Rog gently to his daughter as she refused to let go of Rûsa.

“B-but I do not want brother to leave…!”  

Even if his social skills had gotten a lot better over the years since his rebirth and most people agreed on that he actually was pretty good with children, Rûsa sent Maedhros a pleading look for help as he was afraid that the Wood clan would leave for Valmar without him.

“Come here, Cúwen. Let go of your brother now.”

Despite Cúwen's barely heard protests, Rog managed to free his stepson from her and Rûsa kissed her cheek as good-bye before leaving the house with Snowflake on his heels.  

“He is so grown-up already…in only 20 short years, he will have his ceremony for coming-of-age…oh, where did all those years vanish so quickly!?”

Rog knew that Maedhros was a little bit extra emotionally sensitive now when she was pregnant, so he could understand why she suddenly started to cry as well.

“Aye. Before we know it thanks to seeing our children grow up, it will already be our turn to have grandchildren in the future.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Taking his horse from the stable, Rûsa checked so he had not forgotten anything. Riding out from Formenos with Snowflake walking beside the horse, he saw that the Wood clan was making the last checking on things before it was time to leave, so he had not been too late.  

“Ready to leave for Valmar, Rûsa?”

“As ever!”

Rûsa could sense the excitement in the air, he was not the only one to look forwards this journey.

“It will be fun to meet with Maeglin and Saira again, it is a couple of months since the last time I saw either of them.”

“Perhaps you might have to keep a eye on young Saira, Rûsa, I know that there is a couple of youths here in the Wood clan who has a crush on her.” 

Smirking, Rûsa nodded. He was not surprised that it was many who had eyes for Saira, given how pretty she was. And with only ten years left to her coming-of-age ceremony that would make her marriageable, it was perhaps no wonder that some people also started to be serious in hoping to have her as bride.


	2. The Vanyatin capital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rûsa arrives to Valmar, and meets Maeglin and Saira again

Rûsa greatly enjoyed the journey with the Wood clan to Valmar. It was not often the House of Fëanor travelled to the Vanyarin capital, mostly because of that some of their worst enemies was among the pious moral guardians there.  It was from these people that the most complaints about Maedhros' marriage to Rog and her refusal to name Rûsa's father came from. Other Vanyar Elves simply had accepted the unusual situation and understood that nothing could be done about it.

“Well, everyone, there it is. The city of Valmar,” said Taurion as the first riders in the Wood clan spotted the white city. The famed bells could be heard ringing in the spring air.

“I have asked it before, and I will no doubt do it again; _How_ on Arda can they stand the sound of all these bells everyday?” groaned Rûsa and held for his ears when the bells rang for the midday prayers. Taurion patted his shoulder in agreement; it was not uncommon for outsiders to be annoyed by the bells and the daily prayers, especially if they had to stay in Valmar for a longer time.

“Different life-styles, little brother, different life-styles.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Inside the royal palace, Saira and Maeglin were talking about the coming Spring Ball.

“Really, we should try and stay close to him. There are many social climbers who will be at the ball and seeing that Rûsa is third-in-line to the kingship of the Noldor with great-uncle Fëanor as the Crown prince and lady Maitimo as second-in-line after him, many will try and hook him as a law-son by having a daughter married off as his bride.” Saira said in a slightly worried voice as they walked towards the throne room where they would meet up with Ingwë. Now when she knew about Rûsa's past life in the First Age as the Warg Rider, she saw everything with him in a new light. It explained so much about his behaviour, why he seemed so socially awkward at times and such. Such small details that she had spotted over the years since their first meeting in Fourth Age Year 22 and often wondered about when thinking back.

“This is why it would have been better for him at his rebirth if his mother just was a normal Noldorin commoner, and not the Noldorin High Queen at his birth in Years of the Trees. Being a royal is so different from Angband that he likely feels surrounded by power-hungry Orcs instead of normal _nissi_ at events like this. It is in such situations that he needs protection…and gives the current rumours about a possible marriage between our families some weight…” groaned Maeglin and massaged her forehead. Thanks to those idiotic rumours that had no ground in reality, a lot of people had started to openly comment on which one of her and Saira that would fit as a possible bride to one of Fëanor's two grandsons. As not many people knew that Celebrimbor actually was married to Narvi, it was a little unnerving for them to hear such things. And while both of them were good friends with Rûsa, there were no romantic feelings between any of them…right?

“I care for Rûsa as a friend, I really do, and I admit that I did truly have a crush on him for a couple of years before Cúwen was born, but…he is not my _One_. If he had been, I am sure that we would have noticed it earlier…”

“Noticed what?”

They spun around at the sound of the new voice. Rûsa was standing there in the hall a bit away, his thick hair ruffed from the outside wind and half-way free out of the braids that he had made the same morning after waking up.

“Rûsa!”

“Hi there, you two. It is a while since the last time I saw you. Small and pretty as always, Saira! Do you get enough to eat, little bird?”

Laughing, Rûsa was able to easily lift up Saira thanks to the difference in height and body weight between them.

“It is your height and muscle mass that makes her look extra petite and delicate beside yourself, you over-grown giant of a Elf. Lord Finrod and lady Amarië feeds her more than well enough. It is others who claim that she actually has started to get a little chubby and needs to lose a couple of kilos,” said Maeglin with a faint smile at seeing him. Rûsa nearly dropped Saira in surprise and faint horror over what she said.

“Saira having to lose weight for being a bit chubby?! Bah, nonsense! Those people really have no idea how rich different foods in Aman are for us who suffered thought starvation as slaves in Angband…you both are beautiful with that pear-shaped body of hers and your own rectangle-shaped one, Maeglin.”

That comment caused Maeglin to blush deeply and earned Rûsa a rather painful pinch in the cheeks from Maeglin for nearly revealing exactly how he knew the shape of her body from their time together in Angband. This minor lack of tact was a perfect example of how Rûsa saw things in a very different light thanks to his past life as a slave in Angband. Any hint to a possible diet in order to lose weight or not eating enough to have a healthy body weight could awaken his memories of the starvation that had haunted his first life.

“How do you know about…”

Saira was about to start asking Rûsa how he knew Maeglin's body shape when she never had shown herself to him without clothes on, as her own body shape was more clearly seen despite any clothing she wore, when a pair of giggles could be heard from behind a curtain. Six young Elflings of both genders then hurried away from their hiding place, just as Ingwë himself revealed himself behind the large curtains that acted like doors to the throne room.

“Now, now, children, back to your lessons so your parents can focus on their work here…Ah, you girls got your second-cousin first! Should have guessed so from the start…welcome to Valmar, prince Russafinwë, I hope that the journey here went well?” he asked with a welcoming smile. Releasing Saira, Rûsa bowed for the Vanyarin High King as greeting. This was the very first time that he was on an official visit to another royal court without his closest family members and he had no wish to make a fool out of himself. He could accept the painful fact that he was horribly socially awkward the very moment he was not among commoners, and if he was honest with himself, Rûsa was actually a little bit scared for the different High Kings. In the former slave-part of his mind, their royal authority made them stand on a completely different status, basically straight after the Valar and Maiar. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Outside Valmar, the Wood clan had set up camp. By a new tradition, one of the six Avari clans every sixth year would be there and have a small spring market with the Vanyar Elves around the time for the Spring Ball. This year, it was the Wood clan's turn.

“Is everything going well here?” Taurion asked as he walked among the market stands that his clan members had set up.

“Yes, sir. Everything is fine.”

Already Vanyarin Elves had started to come look at what the Wood clan had brought. Most of them were fairly young, hardly more than children or early adolescents, as many moral guardians among the older generations in Valmar often were not too fond of having “savage” Avarin Elves so close to their holy city and tried their best to keep the youngsters away every year. But they seriously underestimated the younger generation's treasure of ideas in how to sneak out to the Avari camp without getting caught.

“Sorry, mister. Can we be allowed to look on those?”

At least they were well-behaved and actually thought before saying anything. Not every adult among the pious Vanyar Elves acted as if the Avari Elves actually had a culture of their own.

“How much for this small wooden horse?” a young girl asked.

“What is this necklace made of?” said another youngster.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In Tirion:

Indis was having a tea gathering with some of her friends. Some of them were from her childhood, others from the early years in her marriage.

“How nice to hear that princess Nelyafinwë will have her third child this autumn!”

“Yes, it is, especially after these horrible rumours that Russafinwë would be her only child…”

Indis could trust her friends in what she spoke off. Like her, many of them had married a Noldor husband back in the Years of the Trees and slowly broken away from their original Vanyarin ways over the Ages for different reasons, but they had all found at least one family member among the Exiles that had followed Fëanor to Middle-earth.

“Really, I actually find it rather…repulsive in that it has started to come new rumours with doubts about the paternity of her new child! It seems like those scandalmongers willingly “forget” that we Eldar never commit adultery! It is starting to get rather tiring that it is almost only Nelyo who is the focus in these rumours, all because of the mysterious father to her firstborn…”

Even if Finwë had told her the truth in that Rûsa's father actually was Taurion, Indis knew that it was not her place to reveal his identity. It would be a deep betrayal of his trust and given how sensitive information it was, it was a grave risk in revealing it.

“I agree on that, it is someone who clearly wants to harm the princess. As if that poor girl does not have it enough with her past deeds in the First Age…”

All of the ladies fell silent in an uncomfortable silence. This was something that one did not talk lightly about.

“Prince Russafinwë is one of the main characters in these rumours about a future marriage between your husband's descendants, my queen, alongside princess Maeglin and princess Saira. Most likely because of that they seem to be good friends and such.”

Indis signed as she was offered some more tea in her cup.

“Good friends, yes, but possible lovers? I do not think so. With my great family, I have learnt to spot signs of romantic between two Elves and…that sort of spark is missing between Saira and Russafinwë. Sure, they are still very young and that sort of feelings might not always show up in a young age, but…no, I do not think that will happen between those two at least. But Maeglin is a different matter; she is much older than him and their behaviour around one another is far different.”

She could not reveal what Maedhros had told them little over 14 years earlier, that Rûsa actually was born in Years of the Trees 1498 and thus was far older than Maeglin by 338 Years of the Sun.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Inside his guest chambers in the royal palace, Rûsa had packed up his travel bags and was checking on his dress robes. Even if it was his best one, he now saw that it did look a little provincial in contrast to the robes that he had seen the Vanyar Elves wearing.

“Then again, clothes back home in Formenos are meant to be practical and useful for working, not grandiose!”

It was a robe in fine dark green colour, so if he just added some minor details with somegold and silver thread on the front and arms it would look like new again. Sewing had been a skill of survival in Angband, especially if one needed to close a huge wound, and Rûsa had been taught some new techniques of sewing from Caranthir over the years since his rebirth as well.

“Rûsa? May we come in? We have brought the sewing accessories that you asked us to bring.”

It was Maeglin who knocked on the door. Rûsa was quick to open the door so they could enter, and he left the door open so no one would wonder about exactly what the trio was doing.

“So…what details do you think we should add on your robes? I think that a couple of golden tetragons would be nice. Maybe some silver leaves too,” suggested Saira after taking a close look at Rûsa's robes to see what details they could add.

“It is you ladies who know best in that. I am totally in the dark about those things,” muttered Rûsa half aloud, once again showing how hopeless he could be about Elven fashion thanks to his life as a slave in Angband. Both Saira and Maeglin gave him an understanding look. Rûsa always did his best about things, but he would forever be marked by his first life.

“Well, you have gotten better over the years even if you do not think so yourself. There is still hope to make a good Elf lord out of you.”

And with that, they each took a sewing needle with some thread and started to sew on the new details onto his robes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Maeglin is born in First Age year 320 (both canon and in this AU), and Tolkiengateway mentions that one full Year of the Trees would be like 9 Years of the Sun, so logically Rûsa would be about 338 Years of the Sun older than Maeglin as he is born in Years of the Trees 1498, which would add 18 Years of the Sun to his age. (Terribly sorry if I confuse you readers now!) Saira is meant to be born on March 25 in Fourth Age 1, the fourth anniversary of Sauron's defeat, so she is 90 years old currently and will come of age in ten years at age 100


	3. Spring Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vanyarin Spring Ball can mean a lot for different persons

The next evening, it was the Spring Ball. One of the biggest events in Valmar every year, it was meant as a symbolic celebration of spring. It was also a chance for young Vanyar Elves to meet others of their own age outside the small parties at home and maybe even a future life-partner if they were of age.

“Changed words from yesterday; they are not Orcs, they are vultures!” whispered Saira to Maeglin as they spotted how many eyes that was on Rûsa tonight. While he clearly stood out with his height, the colours of his dark red hair and dark green robes also caught people's eyes. The ball had hardly begun and Rûsa was already surrounded by young ladies who wanted to dance with this exotic grandson of Fëanor.

“I will save him for the first dance, then we will try and take turns with him. Hold this for me meanwhile, please,” suggested Maeglin and handed Saira her glass of apple cider. Saira had nothing against that, knowing that it was made in good will.

“My lord, would you like to dance?”

“I asked that first!”

“No, I did!”

“Now, now, ladies, there is no need to fight…” said Rûsa in a quiet voice as he desperately tried to spot a way out. This was why he never really liked to be around non-Avari women, as he often got the feeling of only being seen as a ticket for higher status by marriage thanks to being a royal. Much to his own private relief Rûsa saw Maeglin come over from where she and Saira had been, with a determined expression on her face. Without much effort thanks to being a female blacksmith, Maeglin pushed the other maidens apart and dragged him with her out on the dance floor, leaving behind a horde of deeply disappointed maidens who all had tried to catch Rûsa for the first dance.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“Thanks for saving me there,” whispered Rûsa as music started to play for the first dance. Maeglin might be shorter than him, but with her 180 cm in height she was still notably closer to his height on 2 meters than many other ladies in the ballroom. Any dance with them would have looked ridiculous.

“Don't thank me yet, it will be many dances tonight. Try and catch Saira at the next dance.”

As they slowly started to dance in slow steps, Rûsa used the chance to get a closer look on how Maeglin was dressed. Both she and Saira used white as a basic colour with a different main colour, but while Saira had chosen a light blue dress to bring out her blue eyes and gold-golden hair, Maeglin had dressed up in a light grey dress that looked extremely simple thanks to not having any details at all. Clearly Maeglin did not care if it made her look dull and uninteresting beside Saira and Rûsa in their more colourful clothes, and if he was being honest, Rûsa actually thought that it suited her well.

“You have a nice grey colour on your dress, it almost looks like silver in the right light…”

“A attempt to show that I am a child of two worlds, just like you, with one Noldor parent and one Avari parent.”

Not finding anything to say, Rûsa simply nodded in answer. Soon the dance ended and they separated with a light bow and curtsy to each other as unspoken thank you for being each other's dance partner.

“Come on, young ones, don't be shy now!” suggested Ingwë, signaling to the royal musicians to play a new song. This one was the lead song of a dance where you would take someone of your own gender and dance a few steps. In general, it was mostly to show off your dancing skills and silently offer yourself for future dances with a lady or lord.

“If you allow, Russafinwë.”

Rûsa nodded, placing hishand against the High King's proffered one and slowly slid across the floor in a circle. He understood why Ingwë had taken him for this dance, a attempt to warn his more pious subjects from speaking badly about Maedhros' and Rog's marriage around Rûsa. Even if Rûsa nowadays was far away from the level of violence he had used for his daily survival in Angband, he still had a temper if he was pushed far enough and hearing ill words about his mother's marriage to his stepfather would be one such event.

“My apologies about all the young ladies acting like that towards yourself, Russafinwë. It is very rare to see someone from the House of Fëanor here in Valmar for a lot of reasons and even far more rare to see you outside Formenos.”

Rûsa nodded, the worry for people trying to match him up with a daughter was yet another reason to why Maedhros was a little bit overprotective of him. On the other hand, given how his first life had been, Rûsa did not really mind being spoiled by his maternal family with attention and what was the whole deal in having to share that attention with younger siblings? He had never really understood the problem with sibling rivalry in a family just because of that he had never known any siblings of his before his rebirth. And really, being the youngest of Taurion's seventeen children and Maedhros' firstborn had not been a problem for him so far.

“My ammë mentioned that she used to have the same problems in her own youth. So I guess that some things indeed do run in the family.”

Ingwë smiled, pleased to see that Rûsa had not gotten annoyed by the young ladies yet as it had been one of his main worries for how things could go wrong tonight on the Spring Ball. Even if the rebirth of the House of Fëanor had returned the missing members of Finwë's family, it had also offered more targets for social climbers who wanted to get a higher social status by marrying off their children to a member of the Noldorin royal family. The more higher-ranked, the closer to the throne.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

A small break followed after that, to not tire out the guests before the evening was old. Giving Rûsa some cider to drink, Saira took the chance to talk a little with him.

“Oh great, not _her_! That is Vanë, the youngest daughter of Lord Ingwë's treasurer. I have never liked her because I've always sensed a disgusting personality behind that smiling face she sports right now. She is the one wearing the dress in red and gold over there,” Saira suddenly said in uncharacteristic dislike when she spotted someone among the Vanyar Elves. Confused over her harsh tone, Rûsa followed her eyes. What he saw, was like being struck by lightning from a clear sky in terms of suddenly having a bad memory return in full force. That reddish-golden hair colour…

“ _Sauron!_ ”

Without warning, Rûsa grabbed hold of Saira by her arms and forced her in behind a stone pillar, covering her from sight. Saira saw how pale he was, how he gasped for breath while trying to stay calm. Rûsa was trembling in his whole body from the sudden memory shock. 

“Are you all right, Rûsa?”

“N-no…that girl you mentioned…her hair colour…it's the exact same hair colour as the Lord of Tol-in-Gaurhoth…!!”

Rûsa fought to remain standing up, supporting himself with his hands against the pillar. He felt nauseous and lightheaded at the same time, trying not to faint. Sliding under his arm, Saira made him sit down on a chair that was standing by the pillar.

“Stay here, I will have Maeglin bring you out on one of the balconies for a while.”

True enough, it did not take many moments for Maeglin to come over and help Rûsa out on a balcony. Saira even closed the belonging glass doors and drew together the curtains so they could be alone for a while.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maeglin helped Rûsa sit down on the balcony railing of stone, with his height it was better than having him sit down on the floor.

“Saira said that you suddenly had a triggered flashback of the Fallen Maia, what happened? Was it that girl named Vanë? I had a similar shock the first time I saw her hair colour as well…”

By now, Rûsa had calmed down again and could nod steady in answer. He was grateful for that he had not gotten a real panic attack at seeing the reddish-blonde hair, but it had been dangerously close to happen.

“For a moment…I mistook her for him, yes…and her red dress did not help much, he used to wear red when he wanted to remind the slaves about how the Dark forces had won battles. For me, it used to be a reminder of their lies about how ammë had died giving birth to me.”

Maeglin gritted her teeth in restrained anger, many former slaves from Angband had similar problems with the colour red because of how it would trigger up memories of blood. For her, it had once been the reason for reawakening memories of her torture by Sauron's hands in order to betray Gondolin. It had lessened over the years, but you never knew when such a memory trigger would happen. 

“Damn it…I had hoped that I finally would be free from some of those memories at last…” Rûsa groaned as he straightened up, trying to not curse too loudly so any of the pious Vanyar Elves would hear. Colour had now returned to his face, but there was no doubt that he still was in slight shock.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back inside the ballroom, Saira did her best to hide where her two second-cousins had vanished. Several young noble ladies asked her where Rûsa had gone, as many of them had the goal of hooking him for either a dance or even try and catch his eye in a very different way.

“Take it easily, ladies, he was only a little overwhelmed for a moment…”

Vultures in disguise, really. 

“Oh, that was really horribly sad to hear, about the prince. Oh well, the evening is still young and he should know better than leave us young maidens without a dance each at least.”

Great, as if Saira needed more problems right now. Vanë had come over to the group. Many Vanyarin Elves in their age-group often praised them for different reasons; Saira for her kindness and simple charm, while Vanë often got compliments for her reddish-blonde hair and fashion sense. But what the adult Vanyarin Elves failed to notice was that behind their gentle smiles and greetings, Saira and Vanë actually loathed one another with a burning passion. Vanë would often say hidden insults about Saira's mother Amarië, who had been from a low-ranked gentry’s family before her marriage to Finrod and thus, in the eyes of the far higher nobly-born Vanë, was an unsuitable marriage party for a royal prince even if he was the oldest son to the Noldorin High King's third son. So for Saira, who loved her parents so dearly, people who spoke badly about her mother was to be avoided at any costs even if she could not always avoid them like now in this very moment.

“Prince Russafinwë simply is not used to ladies of high class behaving like he is some sort of meat to sink your teeth into. Last time I visited Formenos and the House of Fëanor, the ladies there made a clear point of allowing him to make the first step and **_not_** throwing themselves at him!”

To emphasize her words, Saira snapped her open fan shut as evidence that this conversation was over and turned around to walk away with determined steps. To her inner pleasure, many of the Vanyarin maidens actually had the humility to see the shame in their earlier behaviour against Rûsa, so hopefully he would be left alone.

“Oh right, princess Saira, before you leave I have to ask; is it true that prince Russafinwë actually is a child of sin?”

Of all the rude things to ask…! Saira deeply wished that she could turn around and straight out slap Vanë in the face for the having the nerve to bring that sensitive subject up out of the blue just like that, but that could be seen as completely out-of-character for her among the Vanyarin nobles and knowing Vanë she would likely only say that Saira reacted badly on an innocent joke. Taking a deep breath to prevent herself from doing something stupid, Saira walked away in a hurry that did not really hide her anger. Behind her back, Vanë simply smiled in pleasure over that she had managed to hit yet another sore point in Saira.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Outside on the balcony, Rûsa and Maeglin was blissfully unaware of what that happened inside the ballroom. The balcony offered a nice view over both Valmar and the Wood clan's camp a bit further away.

“A sweet silence, even if it is a little cold in the air still.”

“Indeed.”

They did not say anything for a couple of more minutes, before Rûsa carefully moved his hand closer to hers on the balcony railing, as if he was afraid of her reaction on the movement.

“Maeglin? C…can I say something to you? It is rather important, and…well, I won't blame you if you freak out at hearing it…”

He was blushing rather hard even if it was a little hard to see in the evening darkness, and seemed to have trouble to find the right words.

“Yes?”

Bending down to come closer, Rûsa whispered something in her ear. At hearing what he said, Maeglin got a look of surprise on her face.

“Really? You are truly sure about that?”

“Yes…I have tried to be with other She-elves over the last 30 years since I started to mature from child into a adult shortly after my new body's 50th begetting day, both Avarin and non-Avarin, but something always seemed to be missing...”

Rûsa blushed and looked rather embarrassed over it all, yet also slightly happy over finally having revealed it for her. Maeglin moved closer to him.

“And what seemed to be missing?”

Their eyes met, two different sets of black-coloured eyes. Both half-Noldor, half-Avari offspring, yet fathered from two different Clans.

“They were not _you_. None of them had _your_ personality, that inner fire.”

As he spoke, Maeglin took hold of the front of his green robes. Rûsa expected a possible slap and shut his eyes calmly as a sign of accepting that reaction, since in this situation it would not be a punishment for something bad he had done, just something shocking he had said. So Rûsa got a great surprise when Maeglin forced him to bend down, took hold of his face with both of her hands and revealed herself to give him a kiss instead. In fact, the kiss was so unexpected that Rûsa opened his eyes again in surprise. As they finally broke apart for breath, Maeglin said:

“Do you have any idea how much a part of me has _longed_   to hear those words from you ever since I learned that you were reborn?”

“Are you willing to accept my courtship then, despite our…common past in the First Age? Don't forget that I still is underage in this new body of mine,” replied Rûsa in with a hint of unsurety in his voice. Maeglin stroke her hand over his left cheek, where his V-shaped scar was.

“Twenty more years of waiting on you to come of age, are nothing against the long Ages that I have lived in my own new body since my rebirth in Second Age 1697. And you would not be the first royal prince to find his One when you still are underage.”

Rûsa gave her a small smile of pure joy that he never had shown in Angband. It was a new light of happiness in his eyes as he looked on Maeglin.

“Then I think we have a agreement, my Mole princess. Let's use those coming twenty years to really learn to know each other, to make this the right way instead of how our first meeting went in the First Age.”

“And to find out a way to reveal this to our families without causing a fourth Kinslaying between our maternal grandfathers from the shock,” added Maeglin with a laugh. Laughing softly in agreement in how Fëanor and Fingolfin likely would react, Rûsa bent down again and gave Maeglin a new kiss. He even pulled her up in his lap so she could reach his lips more easily.  However, neither one of them had spotted the shadowy figure, that was not Saira as one could believe, on a balcony a little ways from where they was. And the angry look of pure envy in the figure's eyes did not mean any good for the kissing pair there on the balcony.


	4. Attack from the inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rûsa gets in danger

The next morning at breakfast which consisted of toasted bread with ham, cream-filled crepes, scrambled eggs and early spring vegetables along with different kinds of hot drink, Rûsa simply could not keep a smile off his face. It was clear that he was in a very good mood; that something nice had happened during the past evening during the Spring Ball.

“Someone here is in a joyful mood today,” smiled Ingwë as he offered some bread to his wife and queen Isilmiel. Even Maeglin was in a similarly good mood, despite that she managed to hide it far better than Rûsa. Neverless, Saira seemed to be pleased over both their behaviour, likely from having been told what had happened from Maeglin. 

“Yes. I got to fix something yesterday under the Spring Ball that I have long hoped to do. I was a little worried that it would not work. But it went far better than I ever had hoped.”

Cutting up a piece of ham, Rûsa served Saira before cutting up another piece for himself. As he then offered some to Maeglin, she held up a hand as a sign that she did not want any.

“After breakfast, there is something I would like to show you, Russafinwë.”

“That would be a honor, sir.”  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time in Formenos, Maedhros was enjoying a full body massage that would help her to relax now when she was pregnant. Her law-parents had shown up in Formenos on a surprise visit, since the Metal clan was just two hours riding away from the city.

“You are a little bit tense here, but that it is to be expected when you start gathering weight,” smiled Rána as she moved her hands lower down on her law-daughter's back.

“Well, the baby needs more space while growing, so it really is no wonder that it becomes heavier over the next coming months. On the other hands, seeing that the care for pregnant slaves was rather lacking in Angband, we only have my pregnancy with Cúwen to check if this pregnancy is different from my two earlier ones…”

Maedhros' memories of her pregnancy with Rûsa was, to her private grief, rather lacking. She could remember how she had fought to keep him alive inside her despite the torture that she had been subject to, and how Morgoth used to taunt her about getting herself captured so soon after becoming the High Queen of the exiled Noldor. Outside that, the memories were often blurry and far too often linked to some sort of physical pain, so it really was no wonder that no matter how much Maedhros had wanted to remember a special moment from being pregnant with Rûsa, she simply could not.

“Valsûl, can you please give me more of the massage oil from my travel bag? This vial is almost empty,” Rána requested when she saw that she had almost used up all of the oil. Maedhros took the chance to roll over on her other side.

“I will get it…ah!”

A minor shout in surprise was heard from the kitchen, quickly followed by a comment from Cúwen:

“Atto, grandpa dropped one of his vials with paint colours!”

Maedhros smiled faintly at her daughter's words. Trust Cúwen to comment on something like that, it never seemed to stop surprising Rûsa when she did so. Then again, he had rarely been around children in his first life after a certain age, so it was no big wonder actually.

“That little lady has really picked up her older brother's habit of being blunt and honest to a fault.”

“Old habits are hard to get away from, especially in this crazy family that I was born into.” replied Maedhros in a tired voice, feeling herself getting more and more sleepy from the massage. Not that she would mind a short nap, being pregnant was a bit tiring even this early at six months when she was only half-way thought.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in the royal palace in Valmar, Ingwë had showed Rûsa into a small chamber.

“Wow!”

The surprise had been several sets of baby-clothes, in different shades of blue, green and purple.

“Since it is so hard to know if an unborn child is male or female, Isilmiel and her handmaidens chose to make several colours so it could not be any embarrassment about it being the wrong colour. And given that your stepfather Rog is rather dark in skin colour, dark colours on the clothes would not go well either on your unborn sibling.”

Rûsa nodded, remembering how things had been back then when Cúwen had been a baby. They had ended up not using several baby clothes that had been looking too dark against her skin tone. While Cúwen was of lighter skin tone than Rog, clothes with dark colours did not really suit them.

“Yes, I have seen that mistake before, not exactly a good way of giving someone else gifts if you do not understand the difference of colours on the clothes.”

No matter how much he ever saw baby clothes, Rûsa never stopped being amazed by how small they could be, especially those for a newborn. Something in the small size brought up feelings of tenderness and wish of protection in his heart. Perhaps because of that he knew that a newborn Elfling could not survive on its own.

“I am sure that my family will love this gift.” Rûsa said while gently touching one of the green baby clothes with a hand, feeling the soft wool against his fingers. Privately, Rûsa thought he had managed to do this well so far. Clearly he had changed a lot since his death in the War of Wrath alongside his mother, both in behaviour and view on life. While he would forever be marked by his first life in Angband where he had been a slave, things had become a lot better for him here in his second life in Aman.

“You are a truly kind-hearted person, Russafinwë. Your lady mother, princess Maitimo, has done well in raising you despite all the nasty gossip about your unnamed sire. She has mentioned that he still has a good relationship with both her and yourself, so clearly your parents managed to fix things before it could become a repeat of your maternal grandparents' marriage history during the last years of the Years of the Trees before the Darkening of Valinor, even if it had to become an annulled marriage as result,” said Ingwë with a warm smile. For a moment Rûsa felt some guilt in his heart over the lie about his year of birth, and why Taurion was not married to Maedhros, but then shut it down that when he remembered how that lie had protected him from being revealed as the Warg Rider outside the Noldorin royal family so far.

“My ada is more happier this way, being married to a lady of his own heart. I know that he really cares for my ammë, but there was…a missing spark between them, so to say. Their marriage was more of a…you can almost call it an agreement, a plea for help to prove that ammë truly was not the bloodthirsty Kinslayer that old rumours had painted her as. My birth was an unseen honor from that marriage agreement, and ada stayed for a few months after my birth before their marriage was annulled.”

The fact that Rûsa used the Sindarin word for father and not Quenyan told Ingwë that his father was likely from Middle-earth and had never made the Great Journey to Valinor. But he did not ask Rûsa for more information about his father; it was a very personal matter and only a fool would not respect the fact that both Maedhros and Rûsa wished to keep his father away from uncivil questions that people would give him about the annulment of his marriage to Maedhros. Well, he had long suspected that Rûsa likely was fathered by someone from the Wood clan, especially as he shared the eye shape and a couple of other minor appearance traits that was only seen in the Wood clan…  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

When Rûsa walked along the palace corridors later after leaving Ingwë, he heard the sound of someone panting while carrying something rather heavy. Looking around a corner, he saw that it was a Vanyarin maid, dressed in the typical white dress and hair veil of the palace maids to keep the hair out of the way during work, who had her hands filled with one large vase that he had seen in the ballroom during the Spring Ball the evening before.

“She must have gotten the task of putting that vase back into a store room somewhere around. I think Lord Ingwë mentioned something about the storerooms being in this area of the palace…”

Indeed the maid went towards one of the doors, but with the large vase in her hands, she could not open the door and she likely was afraid of dropping the vase if she tried to hold the vase with only one arm. Remembering his life as a slave when he saw her struggle with how she would do now, Rûsa decided to help her. Even if it was unlikely that she would be brutally punished for breaking the vase by mistake, so could her feelings of guilt and fear of getting fired from her job gain the upper hand.

“Let me help with that, miss. It is rather hard to open a door in this way.”

“Oh! T-thank you, sir…”

Rûsa knew that on her stuttering that she recognized him and was likely blushing in embarrassment. Lucky she went to focusing on opening the door so he could carry in the vase for her. It was not heavy for him, not with his long arms and muscle strength in his upper body, rather the opposite.

“The vase shall to the left corner there…”

He could see that a couple of vases with similar designs was already standing there. Someone must have closed the door before in belief that they were finished in bringing back the vases. Carefully, Rûsa put down the vase with the others.

“If there is more vases left to bring in here, I suggest that you ask one of your fellow palace maids to help y –“

But before Rûsa rose to his full height, something hard hit him straight in the back of his head.

_Crack!_

Rûsa collapsed down on his knees before he landed on the floor in a dead faint, while the maid closed the door to prevent someone from seeing them.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In another part of the palace:

“Rûsa? Rûsa, where are you? Maeglin and Saira are looking for you!” called Taurion as he searched for his youngest son. The two Noldorin princesses had requested his help in finding Rûsa, as he still had not showed up to the meeting place they had agreed on before he had left the breakfast table with Ingwë. While it was rather possibly that Rûsa simply had gotten lost, this being his first visit to Ingwë's court and all, it was a little bit strange that he had not asked any of the palace maids for directions to where he would go to the meeting place.

“Rûsa…ah!”

Both Taurion and Ingwë himself nearly jumped in fright when they turned around a corner and surprised each other.

“Goodness! My apologies, Taurion, I did not see you…”

“No, Sire, we was both surprised, it is nobody's fault. However, it is a good thing that you showed up. Rûsa has yet to arrive to the meeting place where he and the girls would be. Have you happened to see him?”

That confused Ingwë greatly, for he had given Rûsa the directions to the meeting place before they had separated outside the chamber with the baby clothes to Maedhros' unborn baby and it was not been too far away either.

“Strange…hm?”

Suddenly they heard a muffed sound; it was coming from behind a curtain at one of the stone pillars.

“What in the Valar's holiness…”

Walking over to the pillar, Ingwë pulled back the curtain. A palace maid, stripped of her work uniform along with being bound and gagged, was revealed behind the curtain.

“What…”

“Who did this to you?!” demanded Taurion more bluntly, pushing Ingwë aside and removing the cloth gag from the maid's mouth.

“I…I do not know,” she stuttered timidly, “I only remember that someone suddenly came up on me from behind and held a strange-smelling cloth against my face…”

Taurion, grimacing, used one of his daggers to free her from the ropes and help her up. Seeing that she was embarrassed at being seen in only her petticoat, and tried to cover her nakedness up, Ingwë removed his outer robe of deep blue silk and placed it over her so she would not feel so naked.

“Thank you, mi'lord,” she said faintly, still red with embarrassment.

“Go to the clothing room for the palace maids and stay there until I send someone for you, we can't have a clothing thief running around in the palace like this!”

Taurion did first not say anything, before he suddenly felt a disturbing feeling in his heart. Something was wrong here. Rûsa being missed since leaving Ingwë, and a maid being stolen of her clothing…

“Before you go, miss, please answer quickly this question: Did you happen to see prince Russafinwë somewhere before you were attacked?”

“Yes, I did. I think it was at the corridor leading to the storerooms where we have the furniture for balls, my king…sirs?”

Taurion had gone pale in horror, as he suddenly remembered exactly how the army from Angband had attacked the Wood clan; by having Sauron impersonating one of the clan members. And if Rûsa was the target, then…

“Ingwë, take me to these storerooms, _**NOW**_!!!”

There was a undertone of panic and terror in Taurion's voice that told Ingwë how serious this was for the Wood clan chieftain. Without asking why, he grabbed Taurion's hand and rushed away, leading Taurion along as he too realized the possible dangers of what had happened.

“Get the palace guards to come to the storerooms!” commanded Ingwë over the shoulder to the terrified maid, who quickly obeyed the order at hearing his serious tone.   


	5. Female attacker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An event that risks to seriously damage the relationship between the Noldor and Vanyar, happens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: The events in this chapter is one of the reasons to why Tears of Blood are rated Mature

When Rûsa slowly returned to consciousness, the first thing he noticed was a throbbing pain in the back of the head. The second was that his hands had been tied behind his back and that his robes had been removed, leaving him in only his pants and boots.

“What…no!”

A wave of quickly growing panic flooded in Rûsa's mind because of the memories from when he would wake up and find himself tied up like this for a coming punishment in Angband. He half-expected to see Sauron come out of the shadows somewhere in the dark storeroom, smiling that cruel smile of his that never had promised anything good to Rûsa. A hand was placed on his face to push away his red hair, that had been pulled free from the braid he had done earlier that morning and a warning hiss was heard:

“Lay still!”

A female voice? If he tried to focus, Rûsa could see a female shape. And that reddish-golden hair…

Vanë! The girl who Saira had warned him for! She had removed her stolen maid uniform from herself, now dressed in only her undergarments and loosening her braid, so her reddish-blonde hair fell freely around her body. 

“What are y-you doing?!”

Rûsa's voice was unsteady from being knocked unconscious earlier, and in his blurry sight it was very easily to see Sauron in Vanë's stead. He could almost sense the smell of blood and burning charcoal in the air, along with the distant screams of someone being tortured.

“Catching you as my husband, prince Russafinwë. If your low-born maternal grandmother could catch the Noldorin Crown prince's heart, then it should be a simple task of making you mine, as if that ill-bred Avarin second-cousin of yours would be a worthy match for someone who is the third-in-line to the Noldorin kingship…”   

Realizing what she planned to do, Rûsa was filled with ice-cold terror.

“No…!”

Rûsa tried to move away his head when Vanë placed herself above him and kissed him. Her weight on him brought back far too intimate memories of when Morgoth and Sauron had forced him to make Maeglin his concubine in both word and deed. Only this time, he was the victim alone. Out of desperation, he bit her tongue to cut off the unwanted kiss.   

“Ow! You bastard…!”

_Slap!!_  

Vanë hit Rûsa across his cheek to keep him still and as punishment for the bite. But for Rûsa, that slap only brought up even more memories from Angband. In his panic, he tried to get away or at least get her off him.

“Stop it…agh!”

As Rûsa struggled to get Vanë off him, she pushed one of her arms against his throat. Even if she did not weight very much, the force against his air ways were still enough to start choking Rûsa.

“Child of sin or not, you are the highest-ranked male in the Noldorin royal family after your maternal grandfather the Crown prince, and I will not let someone else take the role as your consort.”

“Neither one…of us two…are of age! The Valar…will not…see it as…legal!” gasped Rûsa, feeling panic nearly overtaking his common sense when he saw how similar Vanë looked like Sauron right now.

“I do not care! If I wait twenty years on that you will come of age, someone else will try and take you!” Vanë answered in all the full arrogance of someone who was used to getting her way and would not be above using dirty tricks to achieve her goal. Rûsa paled in terror, now feeling more grateful than ever for that special herb tea that Taurion had given him to drink every morning, even in the middle of panic like now. One of the known effects was to lessen sexual reactions in both genders, so even if Vanë tried to have him penetrate her, Rûsa would not become sexually aroused no matter what she did. And if he was really lucky, she would be that kind of rich, sheltered girl who was completely unaware about how to actually consummate a marriage.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

A bit away from the storerooms:

“Rûsa? Rûsa!” called Maeglin in growing worry as she still had not found him. For the last minutes, she had been feeling a strange terror in her heart, a feeling creepily similar to what she once had felt back in Angband; fear for that something would happen to Rûsa as he had been her only real protection against an even worse fate than as his concubine.

“Maeglin! Did you find Rûsa?” asked Saira as she came running from the throne room, holding up her long skirts to run easier. She made a worried whimper when Maeglin shook her head. Even with Taurion's help, it was impossible to find Rûsa somewhere.

“I do not like this…I know that I am extremely young, horribly naïve at times and has grown up extremely sheltered in contrast to you and Rûsa, Maeglin, but…oh, I really hope that he is all right!”

Maeglin put a hand on Saira's shoulder to calm her down.

“Young, yes. Naïve? Maybe, depending on what subject it is about. Grown up sheltered? No more than others born to parents who lived in the First Age, I am sure that Rûsa would agree with me on that…”

Suddenly they saw an extremely unusual sight for being Ingwë's court; a troop from the palace guards running towards an corridor that Maeglin had been into before.

“Do not tell me…”

Maeglin did not finish talking, before she and Saira hurried after the palace guards.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_“Stop it! Stop…I can't…breathe! Please!”_

_His fanatic attempts to get air, while Sauron pushed him even more down to the stone floor in front of Morgoth_ 's _black throne by holding down_ _Rûsa's head by standing on his hair in a very painful manner, while holding the chain to the iron collar in the opposite direction, up in the air was extremely painful, even for someone who had grown up in cruelty._

_“That is enough, Mairon. If you end up choking him to death, he will not be able to tell us where his missing concubine is hiding,” commanded Morgoth at seeing the risk of Rûsa choked to death. But it was more likely that she said this to scare the young War Leader, for both Sauron and Morgoth knew what they were doing._  

_“S…she is…with the…slave midwives! Since we was…ordered by you two to…beget children…when she became my concubine…a month…ago!!” Rûsa lied in pain, hoping to win even more time for Maeglin so she would be able to get back to Gondolin before being recaptured, then gasped in clear relief when the pressure against his airway decreased and collapsed down on his front, not even having strength to try and move his hands that was chained behind his back. However, he was quickly rewarded with a painful kick in his stomach that rolled him over on his side._

_“You are lying, Rûsa. I have just been down in the slave breeding area and they told me that she has not been there. At all. Not once during this month have you been sharing a bed with her.” _

_Rûsa held back a scream of pain when Morgoth bended forwards and pulled him up by his hair._

_“I am giving you one last, relatively pain-free chance to tell us where she is, before I hand you over to Sauron for a more heavy-handed interrogation: Where is your concubine?” _

_Opening his eyes despite the pain,_ _Rûsa's black eyes were burning with an_ _intense hatred and desire to protect Maeglin. He did not know about it, but in that moment he looked so much like his maternal grandfather_ _Fëanor that Morgoth almost wondered if it had been really worth the idea of breeding a slave with his blood. But only for a short moment. Displeased over that Rûsa still refused to reveal where Maeglin was, Morgoth_ _roughly tossed him aside as if he had not been anything else than a ragdoll._

_“Ah!”_

_Rûsa gasped in pain where he had landed, feeling like he had broken at least one of his ribs._

_“Make him talk about his missing concubine, Mairon, but keep him alive. If he covered her escape as suspected, then I know the perfect punishment for his_ _disobedience about his concubine.”_

_Hearing Morgoth's words were enough to make Rûsa's blood freeze in his veins of pure fear. That could only mean one thing; his real punishment would be to recapture Maeglin and bring her back to Angband alive with his own two hands once they were sent to attack the Hidden City._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Inside the storeroom, Rûsa was doing his best to get Vanë off him despite his hands being tied behind his back and to make her stop choking him. Her arm against his throat reminded him far too much about how a slave collar from Angband could feel like it was choking him, and in being only half-conscious from the lack of air among with his past memories being mixed with the present, Vanë took the shape of Sauron more and more. That she had the same reddish-blonde hair did not help much.

“I will not…let myself be bound to someone who reminds me about my past life!”

Suddenly, Rûsa managed to hit Vanë with his knee, making her fall forwards with a yelp in surprise. He took the chance and bit down hard with his teeth in her uncovered forearm, his panic not letting him think logically.

“ _OUCH!!_ You damned barbarian! I will teach you to treat a wife properly!”

This time, the slap was hard enough to stun Rûsa, nearly sending him into unconsciousness. As in a mist, he felt her more or less tear off his pants. Yet, now he could breathe again. In desperation to stop this nightmare before it became a nightmarish reality, Rûsa gave Vanë one of his infamous head butts. It was not hard enough to knock her unconscious, but enough to push her away from him for a couple of minutes. Taking a deep breath, Rûsa screamed as loudly as he could in the bastardized Quenya-Sindarin mix that had been spoken by the Elvish slaves in Angband, hoping that someone would hear him:

“ _DEFILER!!! DEFILER!!!_ ”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Outside in the corridor, Ingwë and Taurion heard the scream. They could hear that was Rûsa who screamed.

“ **No!!!** ” 

Taurion knew what that scream meant for the former slaves from Angband, it was a alarm to other slaves close by about that they were about to be sexually assaulted.

“ _SILENCE!!_ ”

Another voice, a female one, quickly followed by the sound of something being smashed.

_Crash!_

Ignoring everything else and where he was, Taurion pulled out a large dagger alongside a smaller throwing axe from his belt. In a throw that revealed his skill in using the deadly weapon, Taurion sent the throwing axe into the middle storeroom door with such force that the door was forced open. Ingwë was shocked to see that Taurion had been carrying weapons on him, bit chose to ignore the destruction of the wooden door that the throwing axe did, this was not the right moment for complaints about such things.  

“Arion!” cried Taurion in worry when he saw the female being seated around the hips on his youngest son. Taking hold of her shoulder, Taurion forced Vanë away from Rûsa, more or less throwing her straight into Ingwë's arms.

“You ill-bred savage…ow!”

Vanë gasped in pain when Ingwë took a very painful hold of her wrists as he took in the scene; the barely conscious Rûsa who wore clear signs of physical violence, the clothes that had been forced off him and the ropes that tied his hands behind his back.

“Vanë of the House of Siryo, do even you realize what you just have _done_!? Not just on a personal level between two underage Eldar, but also nationally between the Noldor and the Vanyar?!” Ingwë growled dangerously in cold fury. The Vanyarin High King desperately hoped that she had not managed to force Rûsa into penetrate her, or it would be a hell to explain all of this to the Noldorin royal family. He could deal with the shame, but it would be a catastrophe for his people.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As the palace guards arrived, Ingwë threw Vanë away from himself as if she was something unclean.

“Take her to an isolated room and tie her to a chair in there! Do not let anyone talk with her! And do not mention this to anyone!” Ingwë commanded coldly to the guards as some of them led the protesting Vanë away. By now, Taurion had freed Rûsa from the ropes that had bound his hands. He tried his best to not start whimper in horror as he looked on his youngest son. Even if Rûsa had not penetrated Vanë, the whole event would be seen as a sexual assault by Avarin standards. It did not matter which gender that was the victim, the Avari clans' experience as slaves in Angband had given them a very different view on things related to sexual behaviour.

“A.. _ada_ …” whispered Rûsa, his black eyes large as on a small child and filled with terror over what nearly had happened, trembling in his whole body.  

“ _Sh, don't talk, please…I am here, I am here…_ ” pleaded Taurion in Avarin Sindarin, hoping to calm down Rûsa before he had a panic attack. And judging from how hard Rûsa held Taurion's hand, it was much needed.    

“Your Highness, we have brought a stretcher!”

Trying to not cause him any unnecessary pain at seeing him bleeding from both the wound at the right temple and the back of the head where Vanë had hit him in order to make him unconscious earlier, they managed to move Rûsa over on the stretcher. Not caring for royal etiquette in this moment, Ingwë removed his second outer robe and placed it over Rûsa to keep him warm. Rûsa was already showing signs on going into shock, making it very likely that he soon would fall unconscious again.

“Take him to the healing wing…”

Suddenly, Taurion took hold of a corner of the stretcher with his free hand to stop the guards from going, his eyes furious and filled with a wish to kill.

“Do not take this personally, Ingwë, but… _I will not have a Vanyar Elf touching my son again…!!_ ”

If Ingwë was shocked over what Taurion just had said about Rûsa, he did not show it. Rather, it did actually confirm his suspicions about the similarity between them. Besides, it was not too unlikely that Rûsa would have a panic attack if a Vanyarin healer tried to touch him so soon after what Vanë just had tried to do.

“You heard him. Take prince Russafinwë out to the Wood clan camp, I know a shortcut where it is less likely for someone to see us.”

The sounds of running feet was heard coming closer, and out of instinct as a father, Taurion let go of Rûsa's hand so he could pull loose his throwing axe from the door and use it in order to defend his defenceless son. Lucky, it turned out to be only Maeglin and Saira who arrived. Taurion lowered his throwing axe right away at seeing who they were.

“We saw the guards taking away Vanë, and… Rûsa!”

“Do not touch him yet, any of you; he is in shock,” warned Ingwë as they moved forward to touch Rûsa. They obeyed, but while Saira looked horrified, Maeglin had a murderous look in her black eyes.

“If you gentlemen excuses me, I have a _insolent little usurper_ that is in firm need of being given an Avarin-styled lesson that you do not try to take away someone who already has given his heart to another!”

And with that, Maeglin hurried away before anyone could stop her.

“We have a saying from the Darkening of Valinor that goes “ _Disrespect the feelings of someone from the House of Finwë, and you have gotten yourself in deep trouble_.” Doubly so in this case, seeing that Rûsa and Maeglin belong to different branches of that family…” Ingwë sighed deeply, before he started to led them towards the shortcut that would let them take Rûsa out from Valmar to the Wood clan camp quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: I have always felt a deep distaste at the double-standard in sexual assaults where a female victim and male attacker are seen as a moral event situation, while a male victim and a female attacker are seen as comical. (Has anyone spotted that double-standard in movies and other things?!) In reality, there is no fun about it for men to be sexual assaulted, it can be just as traumatic as for women!


	6. The first part of falling from grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A seriously pissed-off girlfriend, and a spiritual journey

Inside the royal palace of Valmar, the palace guards suddenly got a minor problem when a furious Maeglin showed up, looking ready to actually kill Vanë for what she had done against Rûsa.

“You accursed offspring of a bloody orc!”

Throwing herself at Vanë under a stream of extremely colourful Avarin curses alongside several foul Dwarven words that she had snapped up from Eöl during her childhood in Nan Elmoth, Maeglin punched and clawed at the Vanyarin girl's face. The guards momentarily let go of Vanë's arms over shock that a princess, even if she was Noldorin, would show such violence to another. Maeglin used all her anger and physical strength as a female blacksmith to attack her, not letting Vanë find a way to defend herself against the rain of blows from the black-haired princess' fists.

“If you think that you can get away with nearly taking Rûsa as your husband by coercion without any punishment just because of that you still are ten years from coming of age, then you are horribly wrong! By this foul deed, you have just ruined not just your own life, but also that of your family! Even if Rûsa had been the lowest of commoners, your punishment as a sexual attacker will still be the same once the Wood clan gets their hands on you!”

“Princess Maeglin, please calm yourself!”

The palace guards had their hands full in separating the two women; not an easy task when they had to keep a steady hold on Vanë and pull away Maeglin without harming any of them. Because of the pious and highly spiritual nature that Vanyarin Elves were famous for, this kind of behaviour from a She-elf was very unheard of among them.

“Let go of me!” screamed Maeglin in anger as they finally managed to lift her away from Vanë. Before they took her too far away, Maeglin took the chance to kick Vanë painfully in the ribs, and caused the girl to fall down. The Noldor-Avarin princess had done a good work in the terms of a fist-fight; Vanë's face was covered in bleeding lacerations from Maeglin's nails, she was in the beginning of a black eye on her left, her nose had been broken and Maeglin had ensured with her fists that Vanë would no longer be fair-looking for a good while with a swollen face thanks to several slaps and bruises that Maeglin had given her.

“Do not think that this is the last thing you have seen yet of your coming humiliation, insolent little wench…!”

Getting herself free from the guards hands' before giving Vanë one last glare filled of fury andloathing, Maeglin stormed off to get out from the palace and get into the Wood clan camp outside Valmar.

“I see why the King always insists on not doing anything that can damage the relationship between the Noldorin and Vanyarin people,” one of the guards commented. Then he turned to Vanë. “Come on, girl, stand up!”

The guards did not offer any compassion for the shocked Vanë as they took her away to an isolated room as Ingwë had ordered them to do, knowing that she had deserved the harsh beating that Maeglin had given her.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

It was a nervous, tense waiting outside the healer tent in the Wood clan camp where Rûsa had been brought. Neither Taurion or Ingwë said anything as they tried to pass time. Taurion focused on getting rid of his paternal fury in a endless line of training matches against his older sons and some of the best soldiers in the Wood clan, while Ingwë mentally sent prayers to the Valar, praying that this mess would not be so horrible as he feared. Finally, almost right after Taurion defeated his second-born son in a third match, there came out from the tent one of the Wood clan shamans.

“Is Rûsa…?”  

Taurion did not dare to finish the words, fearing the worst two things that she could say. Either that Rûsa was forcefully married to Vanë now, or that the _fëa_ of his youngest son had left his _hröa_ as reaction on the nearly successful forced bodily union that he had been into. The female shaman answered:

“No, he is _not_ bound in marriage to that shameless Vanyarin girl, you managed to arrive in time to stop any forced bodily union from happening, my lords. His injuries have been taken care of and he has been given a sleeping draught that has sent him into a healing sleep to recover from the shock. No one of us shamans would recommend that Rûsa enter Valmar anymore of the remaining days that we shall be here, as it is very likely that he would only be reminded of what nearly happened to him…”

However, the relief in the air was quickly interrupted when another shaman looked out from the tent. He was pale, and his terrified movements clearly begged Taurion to not use his weapons on him as he spoke:

“Chieftain Taurion…Rûsa…his spirit just left his body, miss Saira caught him whispering for lady Maedhros in sleep right before it happened and we did not react in time to stop it!”

“ _WHAT?!_ ” Ingwë almost yelled in horror while Taurion dropped his weapons to the ground in shock. 

“Damn it!” Taurion swore. “Do we have to ask Lord Námo to release him from his Halls, or is he currently straying around Aman?! While I would not put it above Rûsa to want the comfort of his mother right now after what just happened in the storeroom, it is not the best reaction on this!!” 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Unknown to Taurion, he was actually right in that. Rûsa's spirit had hurried towards Formenos, searching by instinct after his family. Just being in the familiar streets of the city, even if only as a unseen spirit, already helped him to calm down a bit. It felt odd to not be seen, but right now all Rûsa wished for was his mother.

“Huan, Huan! Give back that ball!”

“Uncle Tyelko, help us get our ball back from Huan!”

On his left, Cúwen and Lindë were running around after Huan, who suddenly had taken their ball when they tossed it between them, much to the girls' great displeasure. Behind them, Celegorm was trying to help his nieces reclaim the ball, cursing a lot when Huan managed to avoid his hands.

“You damn overgrown flea-bag! Get over here and give back the ball to the girls, your ill-loyal beast!” Celegorm swore in anger when he tripped on his front to the ground, just barely missing to catch Huan. Huan made a muffled doggy grin in answer at his angry owner and proudly walked away as if the ball had been a shot goose to collect in a hunting, while Caranthir's voice in the background could be heard disagreeing with Curufin over something. Rûsa smiled faintly at the scene, feeling less afraid at seeing his family in a normal event for them.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

He then went to the family house, hoping to see his mother inside as Rog was far more likely to be found inside his force at this time of the day. Maedhros was sitting on the couch, humming for herself as she was reading a book with different poems inside. One hand held the book, the other one was resting on her stomach where her unborn child slept.

“ _Ammë…!”_

Even if Maedhros could not see or sense him, Rûsa still walked over to her. Collapsing down to his knees, he wept bitterly as he embraced her. The familiar scent of lavender, chamomile and pear blossoms from her was like a healing balm on the newest wounds in his soul that Vanë had caused with her actions. Even if Rûsa had been used to violence in Angband, to have something like this happen to him in Aman, a place where he was meant to be protected from such deeds, was deeply traumatic for him in a way that Sauron and Morgoth never had been able to do.

“Rûsa?”

He looked up at the mention of his name, still having tears falling from his eyes. Maedhros had looked up from her book and was now looking straight out in the air. Even if she did not see him, Rûsa still understood that she had a feeling in that she was not alone. Perhaps with him being a spirit right now, she might sense that something might have happened to him.

“Ammë…”

It was then, as Rûsa sensed something as well. Not just his own presence alongside Maedhros, but a third one. But it was only the two of them in the living room. Unless…

“The baby can sense me?!” Rûsa realized in great shock. The House of Fëanor was not known for high levels of spirituality, and no one among its family members had really regained their trust in the Valar as they once might have had back in the Years of the Trees, least of all Fëanor himself, who still had emotionally scars from the loss of his own mother Miriel. Then again, the newest members in the third generation was free from their parents' trouble in the Years of the Trees and the First Age, so it was not completely impossible that things would change once again for the House of Fëanor as Rûsa's younger half-siblings and Celebrimbor's new cousins grew up.

“ _Rûsa… Rûsa! Ruuuuuuussaaafinwë!_ ”

Rûsa could hear someone calling his name, faint and echoing like that from a very far distance. But his attention was once again drawn to the third presence in the living room, that of his unborn sibling. If he closed his eyes and opened his mind a little bit more, Rûsa could almost feel a tiny little hand against his cheek.

_You are hurting, brother, in here._

The sensation of a small hand being placed right on his heart. Against his will, Rûsa started to cry again at the touch, and the small hand moved upward to touch his cheek once more.

_Come home, brother, come back home. No one will hurt you here…come back home, brother, we will never turn you away._

It was in that moment, as the far stronger and united force of all the Wood clan shamans took hold of Rûsa's _fëa_ and forced him away from Formenos, that he surrendered and allowed himself to be carried back.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_“Brother, brother! Look here!”_

_“Hmm?”_

_A snowball hit Rûsa_ _straight in the face. As he had not expected that, he ended up nearly tripping backwards in surprise._

_“Ai!”_

_Looking over his shoulder, he saw the younger relatives hiding behind a small snow fortress. Because of that the youngest two still were hardly more than toddlers in age and size, it was only Lindë and Cúwen that he saw._

_“I thought that we had an agreement on that you four would stop targeting me because of my height,” Rûsa commented as he brushed away snow from his face and hair. A small giggle was heard from behind the snow fortress._

_“But you are so tempting as a target just because of that, cousin Rûsa…”_

_Rûsa facepalmed, mentally wondering how such childish logic could be far more true than what many adults believed._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Being forced back into a _hröa_   can be very unpleasant for a _fëa_ , now matter how gentle people tries to be. As such, Rûsa felt like he was hurting all over. Because of the sleeping draught that he had been given earlier, he did not wake up. But the sharp inhalation revealed that he was back in his body.

“His heart is beating stronger again. We was very lucky in that he was only out of his body for a few minutes,” said Lianna as she checked on Rûsa's artery in the neck. She and the other Wood clan shamans in the healing tent took a deep breath of relief. For a couple of moments, they had feared that they would lose Rûsa to the Halls of Mandos once more and have him die for a second time, perhaps until the world's end. If that had happened, they did not doubt for a moment that the reaction from both the House of Fëanor and the whole Noldor people would have resulted in serious consequences and that Vanë would be guilty of Kinslaying. For the most pious Vanyarin Elves, such a deed made from one of their own would have been unthinkable.

“Let him rest now, it has been a horrible day for him today and we have to ensure that this event will not be repeated in the future.” 

“These pious Vanyar might see us Avarin Elves as promiscuous just because of that we have different moral values and ways of living, but this event with that brazen little wench should be a rude awakening in which ways they can be hypocrites to their own values…”

A sharp cough from Saira told the shamans to be quiet, as Rûsa stirred in his sleep but did not wake up. A hand held aside the tent opening, revealing Taurion's worried face.

“We managed to get back Rûsa before he entered the Halls of Mandos, chieftain Taurion. He was in Formenos as a spirit, likely drawn by instinct to his maternal family members,” said Lianna as she made a kowtow in greeting to Taurion and Ingwë as respect for them both as leaders. They could see how they both relaxed visibly, how their shoulders stopped being so tense from the fear about losing Rûsa, when they heard this.

“I…I will return to the palace, there are some things that I need to do. Even if we ensured that no one knows about what Vanë did for now, it will be revealed at the trial. I do not doubt that her parents will be blamed for her behaviour by the most pious moral guardians for this mess, as it is a parent's duty to teach their child the social moral among us Vanyarin Elves. I do not wish to see a pair of my closest friends become tangled into the scandal that their youngest daughter created by her thoughtless behaviour…as much as I hate the mere thought of it, I will be forced to strip Siryo of his position as royal treasurer and send his family, without counting Vanë, into exile from Valmar for their own safety.”

Taurion nodded in understanding. By Avarin customs, it was very ill-mannered by others to blame the family of a criminal for what the criminal had done, it was bad enough that the criminal had brought a great social shame upon his or her family by their deeds.

“ _My sons. Prepare a horse-drawn carriage drawn by some of our fastest and strongest horses, I want some of you to help Ingwë in this task about telling her family what Vanë had done to your younger brother and to help them leave Valmar as quickly as possible_ _with the bare essentials for a quick leave,_ ” Taurion commanded in Avarin Sindarin. They nodded, understanding why their father would request something like that. After all, the faster Vanë realized that her family would not save her from this, the sooner she would also find herself all on her own.

“I will ride ahead and talk with them, Siryo should be home for a quick family time with his lady wife around this hour of the day, he has rarely missed that small family tradition during the three Ages of the Sun that he has been working for me. They live in the northern part of Valmar not too far away from the palace, a white three-storey mansion with a red front door and green-coloured window shutters. They have a symbol of a water fountain on the door,” explained Ingwë as a horse was led forward to him to borrow for a couple of hours. With a deep sigh over this whole mess that had been created by a mere underage young lady of high social status just because of that she had wished to marry into the Noldorin royal family as Rûsa's bride, the Vanyarin High King rode back into Valmar just as Maeglin arrived in the Wood clan camp.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: A kowtow is the act of deep respect shown by prostration, that is, kneeling and bowing so low as to have one's head touching the ground. In East Asian culture, the kowtow is the highest sign of reverence. It was widely used to show reverence for one's elders, superiors, and especially the Emperor, as well as for religious and cultural objects of worship. I imagine that the Avari Elves sees it as very rude and ill-mannered to blame a criminal’s family for what the criminal had done.


	7. Judgment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wood clan leaves Valmar, and a trial is happening there as well

 Thanks to how strong the sleeping draught had been, Rûsa remained asleep until the next evening. It was the movements under him that caused him to awake.

“Mm…”

As he slowly woke up, Rûsa realized that he was inside one of the horse-drawn carriages that the Wood clan used to transport anyone who could not ride on a horse. A tent was used as protection against sun, wind and rain, making a steady temperature remaining inside and fresh air was given from special air holes in the fabric. Glaring over, he could see Maeglin and Saira sitting a bit away, talking in soft voices so they would not wake him up by mistake. Hearing his groan, they looked up.

“How are you feeling, Rûsa?”

“T-tired…some of it might be from the sleeping draught, but my head still feels very heavy…”

His throat was rather dry, so they carefully helped him to drink a little water. Given that Rûsa had suffered a concussion from Vanë hitting his head as to prevent him from struggling against her despite already having tied his hands behind his back, it was no big surprise that Rûsa felt dizzy at any movement of his head.

“Where a-are we?”

“The main part of the Wood clan left Valmar under Atara's lead shortly after midday yesterday when Taurion told them that you had been attacked, they did not risk it to happen with someone else. Taurion and a few of the best warriors are still in Valmar but will likely catch up with us once Vanë has been given her judgment by Ingwë. Some of your half-brothers also helped her family to quickly leave Valmar yesterday,” explained Saira as they put him back down on the bed of blankets and pillows so he would not exhaust himself so quickly by moving around under the blanket.

“Good…I do not blame…them for what their daughter did…do not think that they even were…aware of what she planned…”

Rûsa had seen Vanë's personality before; such persons were often the black sheep of a family and in most cases, the parents were not to blame for their child's unusual behaviour. More often than not, these persons simply could not stand having to obey all the rules and following the ideals of sociality, making them often snap in some way. In Vanë's case, her wish to catch the highest-ranking husband she could find had backfired on her horribly and would end up destroying her life. An extremely bitter fate for a young noble-born girl that was not even of age yet, given that Elves were immortal, and that Vanë very likely was that kind of girl who was used to a certain standard of living since birth and had never wondered what it was like to not be able to live like a noble family.

“Do not think about that now, Rûsa, you need to rest as much as you can for the coming days. said Maeglin in a serious voice as she checked on his pupils.

“The shamans will be pleased to hear that you woke up for a small while. Many of the clan members are worried that you might have slipped into a coma from the head wounds you were given.”

Even if she had no official medicinal training, Maeglin had learned the basics of first-aid in Nan Elmoth from her parents and knew what signs she needed to look after. She was pleased to see that Rûsa showed no other signs of pain outside the expected reaction after suffering a concussion.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In Tirion, the royal palace:

“Sire, there is a message bird from Valmar.”

“From Ingwë?” wondered Finwë in slight confusion as he looked up from his paper work. This was very unusual, Ingwë sending a message so soon after the Spring Ball in Valmar. Normally it would take up to six days after the Spring Ball for him to get a message about how things had went. The Noldorin High King hoped that nothing serious had happened with his three great-grandchildren during their stay as guests in Valmar for the Spring Ball at Ingwë's royal court. He knew that many people among the Vanyar would not really feel comfortable around Maeglin and Rûsa for different reasons, but as the unofficial “problem children” in the fourth generation of his family, people needed to look past first impressions when it came to that unusual duo among his great-grandchildren.

“This is the message, my King.”

Thanking the servant and requesting him to bring some tea, as he could use a break now that he had a reason for one, Finwë opened the parchment to read the message Ingwë had sent.

“W-what?!”

Finwë went pale in horror as he read the words. He could almost not understand how it had happened, but then he recalled a couple of similar events being dangerously close to happen with a young Maedhros as well, just because of that she was second-in-line to the Kingship after her father Fëanor who was the crown prince. Finwë groaned in light despair.

“For the love of the Allfather…why are all of these negative events happening in my firstborn son's family?! As if Russafinwë does not have enough problems from his first life he ends up having even more with social climbers like his mother just because of his rank in the line to the throne?”

Finwë gritted his teeth in growing anger. He was grateful that Ingwë and Taurion had managed to stop that shameless girl from taking Rûsa as her husband by force in time, otherwise there would have been a hell of an outcry from the whole House of Fëanor. And the last thing that Rûsa would need after his nightmarish life in the First Age, was an abusive wife that would make him suffer in a unhappy marriage.

“I will do as Ingwë requests, “ Finwë mused, seething with contained rage, “and not telling anything of this to my firstborn! If they learn about this in Formenos, it is a risk that my hot-blooded son will cause trouble in worry over his grandson…something that I can not allow to happen!”

He started pacing agitatedly.

“We have no need of a Fourth Kinslaying; my oldest son and grandchildren's hands shall **_NOT_**   be tainted with the blood from other Elves anymore; and my great-grandson shall not have to suffer anything more of this because of that he is third-in-line to the throne! As if such a untrustworthy wife would be good for him…far more likely that she would only make him return into his personality as the Warg Rider and eventually kill her in a uncontrollable fit of anger, I dare say!”

Rolling the letter shut again, Finwë threw it into the fire that was burning in the fireplace, watching the parchment quickly burn up with its secret. No need to have someone find this letter by mistake and use its horrible contents as blackmail against Rûsa in the future. There was already enough trouble in the House of Fëanor as it was, and they did not need an unwelcomed spouse to one of their most emotionally vulnerable family members that would have used domestic violence against him to take the dominant role in the marriage. And the last thing that was needed right in these times of peace was the start of a Fourth Kinslaying. Snorting, Finwë returned to his desk, determined to put it out of mind until later, and buried himself in his work.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_He looked at some of the gathered family members, his glare warning them from lying about anything. Then, Finwë said:_

_“If you gave birth to Russafinwë in Angband, Nelyo, why did you never tell us about it?”_

_“Because she was tricked into believing that I had been killed at birth. Not during the birth, not before the birth as a stillbirth, but almost straight after,” answered Rûsa quickly in Maedhros' stead, seeing the pain in her eyes at the horrible memory and how she held tighter around_ _Cúwen in reaction._

_“How?” asked Fingolfin nervously, having a feeling that they would not like the answer. Rûsa looked away for a moment, feeling his old hate against Morgoth and Sauron burn like fire in his heart._

_“Ammë was not the only She-elf who gave birth at that time. Just a few hours earlier, another mother had given birth too. When I was born, Sauron took me from ammë by force and went to another chamber close by, where he swapped me with the female baby that the other mother had given birth to. That baby was killed in my stead to make ammë believe that it was I who had been killed, and the other mother became my foster-mother.”_

_There was a horrified gasp at his words, to hear him tell that another child had been killed in his stead. But Rûsa refused to hide the ugly truth; they needed to know why Maedhros never had mentioned a word about his birth back in the First Age before the end of the War of Wrath._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, in Valmar:

Many Vanyar Elves had arrived to the front yard of the palace at having seen their king stand on the balcony, dressed in black robe and a white band around his neck along with a circlet made of black hematite, the clothes he would only wear as Chief Judge. If he wore those clothes in public, it meant that Ingwë had been informed about a grave crime among his people and wished to have his people witness the judgment of the guilty person.

“What could have happened…?”

“Could it have something to do with how fast the Wood clan left yesterday? All of suddenly, they had closed down all the market stands without any warning and packed up their camp…”

“And the three Noldorin royals left with them!”

“I did not see prince Russafinwë after the end of the Spring Ball the evening before yesterday. He was meant to meet up with the King about something that was in a trade route between Valmar and Formenos…”

“Speaking about missing people, lord Siryo, the royal treasurer, has not been seen either since yesterday forenoon. But in his case, he likely is just a bit over-worked and needs some rest, I remember hearing him worry about the cost of how much food it would be for the Spring Ball, something about a disagreement with the cooks…”

_Slam!_

The sound of Ingwë using his royal staff against the balcony's stone floor to order silence, was heard. Everyone quickly went silent. Then, they saw some of the palace guards drag someone towards the open space that the rest of the guards had made in front of the steps to the palace.

“Miss Vanë?!”

“What could have lord Siryo's daughter done!?”

“Where are her parents? Why are they not here to defend their youngest daughter? Surely this must be some sort of misunderstanding…”

Vanë was, to put it frankly, looking horrible. Even if the wounds in her face had been cleaned by the guards to prevent infections, the injuries from Maeglin's attack was still marring her face, her reddish-blonde hair was in a tangled mess and she had only been given a simple dress as protection against being seen in her undergarments. Her hands were tied in front of her as the guards forced her to kneel on the cold stone ground.

“Let go of me! Let go of me, I have not done anything wrong!”

Even if Vanë tried her best to look innocent, Ingwë knew that she was lying. After all, he had witnessed the crime himself and when the High King himself was witness, it was very hard to cover it up. As Vanë looked around, she did not see her parents anywhere. Their absence made her uneasy, since Vanë had been so sure on that her father would use his position to get her out of this. If they were not here, it made her hopes of getting free far less likely.

“Vanë of the House of Siryo, you have been brought here because of that you have committed a crime that greatly risks destroying the relationship between the Noldor and the Vanyar. I will not reveal what you did because of my private vow to keep the victim's identity a secret, but I will let you all know that it is a crime that goes against all the values that the Valar have decided on. Not only is it a crime that affects both the Noldor and Vanyar kindreds if the victim is revealed, but even the Avarin Elves! If I reveal the nature of the crime, then I hold no doubt that it would be seen as a very legal reason for a Fourth Kinslaying with the Vanyar as the target this time!”

Ingwë's normally calm and gentle voice was now like a powerful storm out at the sea, terrible and in great fury. Everyone could hear the wrath in his words as the High King spoke, and as people started to realize the possible consequences of what Vanë had done despite that her crime were not revealed, almost nobody dared to speak out in defence of Vanë. Not even the most pious moral guardians among the Vanyar dared to say anything despite how fast they normally were to jump forwards in defence of the Vanyarin youngsters' “innocent minds and properly behaviour” as they so often said. As High King and Chief Judge of the Vanyar, Ingwë's power was unquestionable. Pointing down the royal staff towards Vanë on the ground, Ingwë pronounced her judgment:

“ _Vanë of the House of Siryo, you are hereby sentenced to life-long banishment from Valmar and life-long punishment as a servant among the Avarin clans._ ” 

Several horrified gasps were heard at Ingwë's words, more than one of the Vanyarin moral guardians looked ready to faint from pure horror at hearing what Vanë just had been sentenced to. In their eyes, that was similar to a death sentence.

“Move away and clean a path to the city gate. Her new masters are about to arrive.”

The sounds of hoofs were heard against the city streets' cobblestones. The palace guards quickly moved away from Vanë at the sound, falling back into line among their colleagues. Just as Vanë took a chance to stand up, ten Avarin riders arrived. In one swift movement Taurion swept down and caught Vanë, pulling her up in front of him in the saddle.

“Let go of me, you horrible savage!!”

No matter how much Vanë tried to get free from his hold on her, Taurion held her in a iron-hard hold around the waist. Turning his horse around for a moment so he could face Ingwë despite the distance from the balcony, Taurion spoke:

“As much as I dislike saying it, an event similar to what this brazen little brat has caused is often a reason to make the Avarin Clans avoid the place for the event for a longer time. In other words, do not expect to see **_any_**   of the Avarin clans around Valmar for the next twenty years.” 

This time, a horrified and exasperated outcry in anger was heard from the present Vanyarin children and youngsters, despite the parents' attempts to hush them up, as the younger generations had come to greatly enjoy the visits of the Avarin Clans around the Spring Ball every year and saw it as a much welcome break in their everyday life in Valmar. To have those visits stopped for the next twenty years was a living nightmare for them because of how strict the Vanyarin adults could be. Ingwë nodded without saying a word, understanding that Taurion meant the twenty years that remained until that Rûsa would come of age.

“We are leaving for Formenos!” ordered Taurion, taking the lead ahead of the other riders as they rode out from Valmar. He had ordered the Wood clan to take the fastest way to Formenos, so he and the other riders would soon catch up with the rest of the Wood clan in a day or so. Behind him Vanë sobbed in despair.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in the Wood clan, they had stopped and made up camp for the night. As Rûsa did not trust himself to stand up yet, he was moved over to a stretcher that could be taken out from the carriage that he, Maeglin and Saira had been travelling in.

“How are you feeling now, Rûsa?”

“A little better than before, but I do not think I can chew anything yet. My jaw still feels sore…ow!”

Rûsa hissed in pain when he carefully touched his face with his fingers and felt the bruises where Vanë had slapped him. In Angband, he had learned very early to never underestimate someone who was smaller than himself. One never knew what sort of unseen strength a small body would show.

“We guessed something like that, which is why it is soup for dinner tonight.”

Rûsa nodded weakly, pulling the thick blanket tighter around himself. He felt strangely frozen, and Lianna confirmed that he had a fever, most likely a reaction in shock over that he nearly had been taken by force and then having his _fëa_ outside his _hröa_ for a small while. It was not unheard of that a serious shock or trauma that reminded them about the violence in Angband, could cause such reactions among reborn Elves.

“Thanks…”

Maeglin helped Rûsa to eat some of the soup, he did not bother to complain about being spoon-fed when he barely had strength of his own to move.

“What will happen to Vanë? I do not doubt that Ingwë will punish her by banishment, but seeing that I have one Noldorin parent and one Avarin parent…she will also be given a Avarin punishment, right?”

Rûsa knew that Vanë would be unable to escape from facing a punishment from the Wood clan as well. The Avarin Clans saw sexual assaults as the worst crimes an Elf could commit, far greater than Kinslaying because of how common it had been in Angband. Murder was unacceptable, yes, but it had not been unheard of having to silently kill a fellow slave to end his or her suffering from overworking or grave injury. But sexual assaults, the act in taking someone by force to become your wife or husband, were unforgiveable. The former breeding slaves had long since been forgiven for their deeds, seeing that they had been forced to do so in Angband and it had not happened by their own free will.

“You can count on that. She should be grateful in that we will not reveal her crime to your maternal family when we bring you back home to Formenos, or hell would break loose.”  

Rûsa shuddered at the mental image of how Maedhros and her family likely would react on learning about what Vanë almost had managed to do if they ever got words about it. He remembered how it was to face the Fëanorians in battle during the First Age, how his mother had struck such fear in Morgoth's Orcs that they often had fled on sight of her. After all, once Fingon had freed her and she had recovered from her time in Angband, Maedhros had been like one returned from death.

“I can see why Ingwë would not have a Fourth Kinslaying happening…” he muttered, leaning back against one stable tent pole of wood that could bear his weight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Yes, Vanë's crime, even if the exact deed is not revealed, is a very harsh wake-up call for many of the Vanyarin Elves about that they are not so perfect in behaviour and free from sin as they would like to imagine. The most pious ones among them see the Avarin Elves as uncivilized because of that they did not do the Great Journey to Valinor back in the Years of the Trees, so having Vanë be forced to live with the Avari Elves is pretty much what they sees as worse than death. And as Finwë points out so clearly; there are actually female cases of domestic violence too, not all abusive spouses are men.


	8. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wood clan shows that they are still affected by the slavery in Angband

When Rûsa awoke the next morning and left the tent for some breakfast, he got a minor surprise at seeing the Wood clan's tree-themed banner being mixed with the Sand clan's banner, a golden sun on a white background.

“Did the Sand clan show up here during the night?” he wondered, getting a mug of hot tea from one of his half-sisters as she passed by. The tea was warm, well-needed when spring still was fairly young and the warmth still not coming in full power.

“Yes, some time after the sunset when you had went to sleep. Turned out to be on the way to their summer camp down in the south and why not take a chance to share camp for a day or two?” Maeglin answered before the half-sister could. She had hovered nearby, watching over him until that he awoke, and thanks to his finely honed senses Rûsa wasn’t too surprised to see her there. Rûsa nodded absent-mindedly, trying to focus on the warm tea mug in his hands. He felt oddly dizzy for some reason, and had not slept very well during the night because of nightmares about Angband where Vanë had shape-shifted into Sauron, ready to torture Maedhros in order to make him reveal where Maeglin was. Rûsa strongly suspected that the nightmare was created from how he now knew his family history and what really had happened at his birth.

“Then I do not doubt that my many step-cousins will show up sooner or later in attempt to find me…”

Both of Rog's two sisters had married back into their mother Rána's birth-clan and by having husbands from the Sand clans, they were counted as members of that clan as well. And with Rûsa being Rog's stepson by his marriage to Maedhros, it was perhaps no wonder that his many nieces and nephews enjoyed their unusual step-cousin as well. 

“I will ask them to not bother you too much,” said Maeglin as she helped him sit up more straight.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In Formenos, Maedhros was unable to focus on what she had in her hands. She had planned to fix small socks for a newborn infant to have ready for her new child at the birth in six months, but for some strange reason it was impossible to stay focused.

“Why does it feel like something has happened to Rûsa? There are several reasons to why we have never been in Valmar since our family's different rebirths, both personal and political ones, and now I am suddenly feeling that it might not have been wise to send my oldest boy there…”

Maedhros shuddered, feeling a growing worry for Rûsa in her heart. No matter how adult his mind was, his new body was still twenty years away from coming of age and there were so many unseen dangers that could happen before he truly was seen as an adult officially. Muttering to herself, Maedhros rose from the couch and went to the kitchen to fix some chamomile tea to calm down herself. The baby under her heart kicked twice at the movement when she got up on her feet, as if trying to tell Maedhros to not worry too much about her first-born. Smiling, she rubbed her stomach in answer to the baby.

“You also want your older brother back home, huh?”

Maedhros looked out though a window, as if she hoped to see her oldest child showing up on the street with Snowflake right behind him.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“I sense darkness in your mind, young one.”

Opening his eyes from where he was laying on the ground with a blanket around him, Rûsa found himself looking straight into the half-covered face of the Sand Clan's most skilled shaman, their spiritual leader. Even if he still was somewhat feverish, he had wanted to be outside for just a small while for some fresh air at least.

“I never stop being surprised at how you can sense things like that, Seth. Then again, you are the Sand clan shaman who has the strongest spiritual sensitivity,” Rûsa answered and slowly sat up, not surprised over that the heavy-clothed shaman already was sitting down with crossed legs beside him. Without a word Seth removed the veil from the lower part of his face, revealing himself to be an albino behind all the light grey clothing that protected his light-sensitive skin from being burned by the sun.  

“I will not ask for details, but the basic event. Sometimes it is better to let it all come out instead of hurting oneself on the inside.”

As he spoke, Seth opened a large bivalve seashell where he had some blue paint meant to be used in spiritual ceremonies. He painted some of it on Rûsa's face, the forehead and cheeks, to help Rûsa be more open spiritually.

“A Vanyarin girl who reminded me about the Fallen Maia.”

It was all Rûsa could trust himself to say, the trauma of what Vanë nearly had done was still too raw in his mind. Seth nodded in silence with a serious facial expression; even if he had been born in the Second Age and thus had been spared from the horrors of Angband, he was not unfamiliar with the harsh truth in that many former slaves from Angband were terrified by anything that could remind them about either Morgoth and Sauron.

“Hypocrites indeed at times, many of those high-and-mighty Vanyarin Elves. Going here and think that with their infamous pious nature, they are better than other Elves just because of that none of them were involved in any of the Three Kinslayings. I really feel sorry for High King Ingwë at times in that he has to lead those people…”

Seth set fire to a match, so he could light a few sticks of incense. The sweet scent of the jasmine incense was meant to help someone relax while Seth searched spiritually inside them for the uneven amount of chaos and harmony inside the person. Rûsa took a deep breath, feeling the gentle scent of jasmine from the incense sticks.

“Ready? I will try and be quick, seeing that your fever does not make you strong enough for a longer spiritual searching inside you.”

Rûsa nodded, leaning back against Snowflake who had laid down on the ground beside her master. Closing his eyes, he allowed Seth to spiritually search inside him. It did not hurt, and felt far more like he was being bathed in an gentle and pleasant warmth from the inside of his body. As promised, Seth were quick to return out of Rûsa's body, but there was a worried frown on his face when he looked at Rûsa.

“I do not know how aware you are of it, but what I saw…the darkness inside you is the _Warg Rider_  you once were. It seems like a part of that dark side of your personality was awakened by what that Vanyarin girl did to you. If you are not careful in the future and end up finding yourself trapped into a corner with no way of escaping, there will be a grave risk that you will slip back into your darker personality as the Warg Rider in order to protect yourself against whatever it is that you see as dangerous to your life.”

Rûsa shuddered, remembering how he had bitten Vanë in her arm and even headbutted her in his struggle to get her off him. These had been two of his most favoured ways of injuring an opponent in Angband's feared battle Arena, where he had been “training” his skills in battle on Morgoth's order so he would not be killed by the Noldor. He knew that the Warg Rider would forever remain a part of him, but to hear that it was a possibly for him that he would become the Warg Rider again after so many years of peace with his family…

“Seth! Where are you? Your apprentices are missing you,” someone from the Sand clan called. Covering his face again with the veil against the sun, Seth rose to his feet while Rûsa removed the blue paint from his face.

“Still, thanks for the warning. I will try and be more careful, since I have no wish to return into being the Warg Rider.”

Seth nodded, pleased with that he had been able to warn Rûsa about this risk before anything bad had happened.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

 Only a few hours had passed, before a scout rode back to the camp with the news that Taurion and the other riders were arriving.

“Lady Atara, important news! Lady Atara, chieftain Taurion will be arriving to the camp soon! One of the riders has a extra rider along.”

There was no doubt who the eleventh rider would be: Vanë. This meant that Ingwë must have given her the punishment he had promised that he would do as the Chief Judge among the Vanyarin Elves, and that her fate now lay in the hands of the Wood clan. They would not kill her, but a public humiliation was the most likely possibility for a punishment before Vanë had to start her new life as a servant to the whole clan, the lowest rank of them all in the social hierarchy among the Avarin Elves.

“Saira, please bring Rûsa back into the tent and stay there, both of you. I do not think neither one of you should witness what kind of punishment we will give Vanë for what she did to Rûsa two days ago; Saira because of that you are not used to seeing violence, and Rûsa because of what memories it might bring up,” requested Atara when she was given the news from the scout. Nodding, Rûsa allowed Saira to help him standing up on his feet, supporting himself against Snowflake in case he suddenly got dizzy from the movement.

“You are being a little pale again, Rûsa. Maybe you should try and sleep for a small while, an afternoon nap might give you some needed energy for the evening later.”

“Yes…I do not feel like there is much else I can do currently, not with my concussion…” Rûsa groaned weakly, holding a hand against his bandaged head as they walked towards the tent. Maeglin was focusing on a dagger in her hands, checking on the edge if it was enough sharp for the task she planned to use it for. Pleased to see that it was like she hoped, Maeglin rose to her feet as well while her two second-cousins left for the tent.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

It did not take long, before Taurion showed up in the Wood clan camp, carrying a protesting Vanë over his shoulder. Her hands were still tied together, and since Taurion was very muscular, he was not bothered by her attempts to make him let go of her.

“Stop acting like a small child, girl.”

Without much effort or even gentle care, Taurion threw Vanë to the ground.

“Ow!” Vanë groaned, once again feeling pain from her injured ribs where Maeglin had kicked her two days ago. As she tried to raise herself up from the ground Vanë felt the stares on her from the Avarin Elves around, all filled with pure loathing and hate. That she was alone, without protection from her family or even the Vanyarin people, revealed just how serious this situation was for her. None of her usual arrogance and self-confidence could be found in Vanë's eyes, which was filled with fear over what would happen to her.

“ _It is her…_ ”

“ _The Vanyarin girl who tried to force Rûsa into marriage…_ ”

“ _Foolish girl…catching a royal husband is not just to do anything like that!_ ”

“ _And the Vanyarin Elves claims that we in the Avarin Clans are uncivilized savages, just because of that we never made the Great Journey?!_ ”

Not saying a word, Taurion nodded to some of his sons against a raised wooden stake a bit away. Obeying the untold order, they grabbed hold of Vanë and dragged her towards it despite her protests. As they did so, one of the more brave Elflings threw a small stone against Vanë.

“That was for hurting uncle Rûsa, you hag!”

As of that had been a signal, several others of Taurion's grandchildren from his baseborn children and their young friends started to throw stones and mud on Vanë. The adults did not stop them, execpt when the stones were too large that could harm her. In fact, she got several buckets of cold water thrown upon her under a hail of insults and harsh words from the adults too.

“Stop! That's enough for now!” commanded Taurion loudly, but the tone in his voice promised that they would not need to wait for long. As Vanë got her arms tied around the wooden stake, she faced the crowd. Taurion handed Maeglin a dagger as she came forward, with the words:

“As the lady Rûsa has given his heart to, it is your right to do the first part of the punishment.”

“Oh, I will!” Maeglin growled in anger and took the dagger as she looked on Vanë with pure hate in her black eyes. She often tried to hide the personality traits she had inherited from Eöl, especially those of a more violent temper, like making a threatening movement that tended to show up when she was in a very bad mood, but right now they were far more useful than a gentle nature.

“D-don't touch me, you ill-bred savage!” Vanë warned in fear, failing to sound threatening. Maeglin only raised a eyebrow as reaction, before grabbing a rather painful hold on Vanë's reddish-blonde hair with one hand.

“You will really regret that you tried to make Rûsa into your royal husband by force, you little bitch!”  

Then, pulling hard on the hair to show her anger, Maeglin used the dagger to cut a portion of the hair. Dropping the cut hair to the ground without a word, she took hold of Vanë's reddish-blonde hair again.

“W-what are you doing!? Stop it! It took me several years to grow out my hair…!”

A fist in the stomach from Maeglin interrupted her quite brutally, and Vanë gasped painfully for breath. No one among the Vanyarin Elves had ever hurt her like that before, the worst punishments she ever had was either a firm slap on the fingers or being grounded.

“Be silent, wench,” growled Maeglin dangerously, pulling hard on Vanë's hair as warning for any more talking as the Vanyarin girl actually started to cry in fright. Maeglin lost her patience in anger and half-yelled for someone to keep Vanë from struggling. The request was quickly fulfilled, so it did not take long for her to be able to continue cutting the hair of the younger girl. Finally, after several more minutes, Maeglin had cut off nearly all the reddish-golden hair from Vanë's head, leaving only a uneven, almost shaved thin mass of hair.

“Please move aside, lady Maeglin. Your part of the punishment is already done, and you even brought out another part of it by beating her up almost right after the attack.”

The smell of glowing red iron. As Maeglin turned around, she saw that it came from a branding iron with a special mark in the shape of a cleft circle that Taurion held in his hand. Pushing down the memories of being marked with a slave brand in Angband with just a branding iron, Maeglin stepped aside.

“Hold her face still.”

A howling scream of pain echoed though the camp, as the right side of Vanë's face was branded with the growing red branding iron. It was not entirely unexpected, or even particularly surprising, that she ended up fainting from the pain.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa and Saira could hear the scream from inside the tent, but tried their best to ignore it. Yet Rûsa failed to hide that his hands were shaking in terror by the memories that the scream brought up, nearly dropped the tea cup from his hand because of how much he was trembling. Saira caught the cup before he dropped it.

“I am glad that lady Atara told us to stay in here.”    

Saira knew that she was rather shielded from the dark side of life, but she was not very naïve or foolish because of that. How could she be, with her father Finrod's own story back in the First Age? Besides, it was pretty natural that parents, especially those who had lived though the horrors of the First Age, wanted to protect their children.

“Yes…”

Rûsa could feel an imagined taste of blood in his mouth, and in his memories he could almost sense the heat from a branding iron on his skin as it was brought closer to his body. Laying back down among the nest of thick blankets, he saw Maeglin enter the tent in the corner of his eye.

“Her corporal punishment is just over, now she will start the last step of it; life-long service as a servant.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back outside, Vanë was brutally awakened with getting some cold water thrown on her from a bucket.

“We heard that there is a problem with a Vanyarin girl here.”

It was lady Isis, the wife of the Sand clan chieftain Osiris, who came walking with her youngest son Horus by her hand. Taurion bowed lightly to her in greeting to someone of equal status to his own wife.  

“Aye. She had the nerve of trying to harm my youngest son because of that he is part of the Noldorin royal family by his mother Maedhros, despite that they both are underage.”

Isis only needed to see the newly added brand on Vanë's face to understand what crime Taurion was talking about.

“Young Rûsa, huh? No wonder everyone here in the Wood clan is so angry then,” she said in understanding while taking a critical look at Vanë's hands, which showed no signs of physical labour.  

“Osiris.”

The Sand clan chieftain took one single look over his shoulder at Vanë. By Avarin custom, anyone convicted of sexual assault would be kept away from the clan of the victim. In this case, the Wood clan as Rûsa was the youngest son to Taurion.

“Bring her over to our camp, honey,” he ordered. Isis took a good look over all of Vanë, seeing quickly on her soft skin and lack of muscles that she had been living a rather pampered life until now. 

“Yes…it looks like we will have some serious work ahead of us to do about this young lady's former lack of having to work for the food she eats.”

Two of Isis' male companions freed the terrified Vanë from the wooden stake, before taking her away to the Sand clan camp. She was to be a servant there. In exchange for Vanë as a future servant in the Sand clan, Osiris gave Taurion a amulet that Seth had created and which would help Rûsa with any future nightmares about being sexually assaulted by Vanë.

“May your youngest son recover and this unkind event soon be nothing else than a horrible memory.”

“And may the Sand clan teach her the errors of her actions.” Taurion answered, placing a hand over his heart in gratitude for Osiris' words. The Sand clan chieftain bowed his head before following his wife and youngest son back to the Sand clan camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Albinism affects people of all ethnic backgrounds; its frequency worldwide is estimated to be approximately one in 17,000. Prevalence of the different forms of albinism varies considerably by population, and is highest overall in people of sub-Saharan African descent. Seeing that the Sand clan is based on the Bedouins in culture and having Central African appearance, I thought that it would be logical if there is some of the clan members that is albinos. The names Seth, Isis, Horus and Osiris should be familiar for anyone who has read about the Ancient Egyptian Gods.


	9. Poisoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrimbor and Narvi has a special surprise for their family, but then somehing happens with Maedhros....

The Sand clan was quick to leave after that, knowing the importance of getting a sexual attacker as far away from the victim as they could. Taurion gave orders that the Wood clan would stay where they were for the coming night, then leave for Formenos early the next morning.

“It would not surprise me if the Vanyarin Elves will need a serious look-though in their customs after this. Well, Lord Ingwë will likely order something like that in order to avoid something similar to happen. After all, some more foolish youngsters might think that Vanë is a great role model and someone to follow,” said Maeglin as she braided Rûsa's hair for him while he was taking a nap.

“Yeah.”

Saira tried to not show it, but she was honest in that she actually was a little frightened by the punishment Vanë had been given despite having not seen it. Instead, she tried so hard to focus on the yarn in her hands, as she had gotten the task of rolling it together into a ball of yarn.

“Her punishment to become a servant for life in the Six Clans is actually more like a slap on the hand by the punishment standards in Angband.”

It was Rûsa who spoke, having woken up at the sound of their talking and did not want to be outside the talk. He then sat up with crossed legs, so Maeglin could comb and braid his hair easier.

“Details not wanted, fox prince, Saira does not yet have enough of an iron stomach that is needed for those kind of tales,” commented Maeglin as she combed thought one notable difficult tuft of hair which was tangled into a small mess in his hair.

”All right…wait, fox prince?!” questioned Rûsa and turned around when he realized that it was him Maeglin meant. Maeglin only smirked at him.

“What? You are a ginger in hair colour, just like a fox.”

Rolling his eyes, Rûsa gently tugged on Maeglin's own braid that hung from her shoulder, before giving back with the words:

“Mole princess.”

Saira held back a laugher at the scene between the couple, happy to see that Rûsa had returned somewhat to his normal self. It had been so frightening to see him during those past days, with that haunting look of horror and fear in his black eyes while he was suffering from the aftermath of what Vanë almost had managed to do with him. To see him like that, when he normally had such a air of reasonable good self-confidence around him, revealed somewhat just how emotionally vulnerable he could actually be when no one saw it.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Over the next following days, the Wood clan took the shortest way they knew towards Formenos. Not only did they want to get away from Valmar and the horrible event that had been happening there, they also wanted to get Rûsa back home to the House of Fëanor as quickly as they simply could.

“No signs of fever anymore, and the concussion should have healed by now. There is almost no signs left of the physical violence that Vanyarin girl left in your face, those which are left can easily be read as the result of a sibling sparring match getting a little too wild in pure fighting spirit. I think it is safe to send you three and some others ahead of the rest of the clan. The sooner you are back home in the safety of Formenos, Rûsa, the sooner we others can relax in knowing that you are behind safe doors,” said Lianna after checking on him one morning. Rûsa smiled faintly, pleased to hear that.

“Sounds good, I have longed for home…oh?”

A new horse had arrived into the camp. But the rider was not alone.

“Hi there, Rûsa!” called Celebrimbor with a smile, waving with one arm in greeting to your younger cousin. Unusually for them, Narvi was sitting in the saddle in front of him, instead of riding her own pony as she otherwise used to do when they were travelling between the Halls of the Forefathers and Formenos. And she was covered in far more clothes than was necessary at this time in spring.

“Hello, Tyelpë…how come that Narvi is so over-dressed in those layers of clothing? It is not that cold outside anymore,” Rûsa asked with understandable confusion, as Celebrimbor normally was not the kind of husband to fuss over his wife and worry if she was affected by the weather outside. 

“My _amad_ is being a fussy mother hen for a reason that I do not want to reveal right now. We barely managed to escape the Halls of the Forefathers while she went to buy something at the market,” Narvi answered behind the thick veil that covered her face below the eyes. Celebrimbor dismounted from the horse, before he helped Narvi to come down on the ground. There, Narvi freed herself from the veil so her whole face could be seen, muttering something about mothers that switched between being overprotective or openly complaining that her only daughter had fallen for an Elf.

“You can rest here for the day, and then come along with Rûsa to Formenos tomorrow at dawn,” suggested Taurion as he took away the horse. The House of Fëanor was always welcome in the Wood clan to join during travel, even if they so only stayed over one night.

“That would be much welcomed, a rest would do Narvi good. It has been a long journey from the Halls of the Forefathers over the last days for her.”  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

After being welcomed into a tent that was meant to be used by guests outside the clan, Narvi was rather impatient to get off the many layers of clothing that she wore. No one was surprised when she started to take off the clothes, she must be horrible warm in them because of how many layers it was that she wore.  

“As my _amad_ acts at times, one could think that I am still an underage Dwarfling! We have never really gotten along, for some strange reason…but of course, the worst thing I ever have done in her eyes, was not just falling in love with an non-Dwarf and on top of that, actually marry him…ugh!”

As Narvi removed the last piece of clothing from herself, the dark skin shining with sweat because of how many clothes she had been forced to wear, Rûsa entered the tent with some drinks for her and Celebrimbor. And had to take a shocked double-look on Narvi, while not dropping the tray in surprise.  

“What?” Narvi almost snapped, ignoring the fact that she now was only dressed in her underwear. But it was not the sight of Narvi dressed like that which surprised Rûsa, it had happened before in Formenos over the years, but rather something else…

“Yes, we are going to become parents about a month or two after the birth of your new sibling, cousin,” said Celebrimbor in pride with a classical Fëanorian smirk as he placed a hand on Narvi's shoulder. Freeing himself from the first shock at seeing that Narvi actually was pregnant around the sixth pregnancy month, Rûsa took a steadier hold on the tray before he actually dropped it for real.

“…And how was it now again with that an elf and a dwarf can not have children together?” Rûsa finally managed to say without sounding like an idiot for asking. To his surprise both Celebrimbor and Narvi shrugged their shoulders, revealing that they had no idea how it had happened either.

“Our best guess is that our Maker and the All-Father is involved somehow. We only know that this little one will be the first child born between a Dwarf and an Elf that we know about,” suggested Narvi as she touched on her stomach.

“And we have a very good guess how my parents will react at this. Her family was…well, mixed reactions are the best way to describe it.” Celebrimbor said while he awkwardly scratched his neck. Rûsa could imagine what his cousin did not say, how the rest of the House of Fëanor likely would react on Narvi's pregnancy. After all, it was something that bound the unusual couple together in a far more close way that just a marriage. 

“Well, I dare say that aunt Astarë will be overjoyed about becoming a grandmother, seeing that you are their only child, Tyelpë. As for uncle Curvo…I can almost foresee that he will first faint from the shock. Remember how he reacted at learned that you two were married?”

Celebrimbor laughed at the memory, knowing that Rûsa had a fair point about his parents. Then Narvi requested her husband to help her fold all the clothes neatly, as her pregnancy did complicate the task somewhat for her and Rûsa left the tent in order to give them some privacy after promising that he would not reveal anything about the pregnancy before they were back home in Formenos.

 ~X~X~X~X~X~X

In Formenos, Maedhros and Cúwen were busy in baking bread together. They had planned to surprise Rog with something that Cúwen had made, even with a little help from her mother. After all, which child in a happy family does not love the small milestone of having made food for the rest of the family, even if it was just a simple snack or drink?

“Good, now we only need to let the dough rise until doubled in size, and then we can start forming it. I think it can be a good plan to fix the fire in the oven during the wait.”

She opened the door of the wood-burning stove to check the fire inside. Indeed, it needed some more wood to build up heat and power.

“Cúwen, please be a sweetheart and get some more firewood…oh?”

A knock was heard on the front door. Taking the chance of doing two tasks in one, Cúwen went to open the door before getting the firewood with Maedhros right behind her daughter. It was an errand boy from the post office, holding something in his hands.

“Sorry if I disturbed you in something, princess Maitimo, but there was a strange package that arrived today. It was marked to you, my lady, but we could not find any signs of a sender…”

It was a small wooden box he held forwards, and Maedhros' title and father-name could be seen written in a very neat manner on the lid.

“Must be one of my cousins in Tirion, I know that Finrod loves sharing some of his baking skills. Maybe he simply forgot to set the sign of a sender because he was in a hurry to get the package in time to the post carriage,” smiled Maedhros and took the package from him. The male elf bowed in farewell and left.   

“After uncle Káno, lord Finrod does the best cookies in the family!” giggled Cúwen as they went back into the kitchen. Laughing softly, Maedhros opened the lid, revealing a set of nut cookies that was rather famous in Tirion, as she said:

“Just don't say that aloud around your other maternal uncles, or they might be jealous. Go and get some extra firewood while you are getting it, we can make some tea to have to those cookies.”

Nodding in eagerness to taste the nut cookies, Cúwen hurried away to get the requested firewood. Smiling for herself at her daughter's behaviour, Maedhros picked up one of the cookies. Cúwen would not mind if she took one already, if she said that it was to let the unborn baby enjoy the cookies too. A small, gentle kick hit the left side of her womb as Maedhros bit into a tiny corner of the cookie, revealing that the baby must wonder where Cúwen might have went.

“Easy there, little one, your sister just went to…?!”

Maedhros suddenly went silent. Her heart rate had went up surprising fast in a couple of moments, her hands was beginning to shake in muscle tremors while she felt an alarming amount of convulsions in her body. Gasping for breath as she tried to stay standing, Maedhros realized what was going on:

“Poison!”

“Ammë, I have brought…”

Cúwen arrived just in time to see Maedhros collapse down on the floor with difficulty in breathing.

“ _Ammë!_ ” Cúwen screamed in fear, dropping the small basket with firewood and rushing over to her mother. In a quickly growing mist of pain, Maedhros felt in horror how the baby started to kick violently as the poison affected her unborn child as well.   

“G-get…your…f-father…!” Maedhros pleaded to Cúwen, who was too terrified to not do anything else than obey.

“ _ATAR!! ATAR, HELP!! SOMETHING HAS HAPPENED TO AMMË!!_ ”

Cúwen's terrified scream did not just catch Rog's attention, but Fëanor's attention as well since he passed by on the street in exactly that moment.

“Nelyo!”

Fëanor rushed inside, finding his daughter on the floor. Much to a small relief, she was still conscious, but she had difficult breathing and he did not like the fast way her heartbeat went. Looking around, Fëanor noticed the opened package on the table and the nibbled cookie that had been dropped to the floor. Mostly to confirm, he did nibble on another one and quickly spit it out at feeling the sticky taste. Indeed it was poison in the nut cookies. Fëanor was no expect in herb lore like Celegorm, but he still knew enough much to guess what it was inside the innocent-looking nut cookies; yew foliage, that had been dried and then grinded into a powder to spread over the nut cookies instead of the traditional flour. Maedhros had all the symptoms of yew poisoning. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X    

Sure enough, the journey home to Formenos did become a little more lively with Celebrimbor and Narvi in the small group of riders which rode ahead of the Wood clan.

“ _She tried to marry you by force even though that you both are still underage!?_ ”

And naturally, it was impossible to hide the truth about what Vanë had done against Rûsa, especially as Celebrimbor overheard some Elfling bad-talking the Vanyarin Elves, and one particular Vanyarin She-elf.

“…ada Taurion and Lord Ingwë managed to stop her attack before anything really serious happened, even if it was very close…and she has already been punished by both Ingwë and the Wood clan…”

Rûsa stopped talking at feeling how hard Celebrimbor was holding around his wrist. It was a little awkward, seeing that the oldest grandson of Fëanor was forced to lean over a bit from his horse and trying to not drag Narvi along as she was sitting in front of him in the saddle, but he managed that no less.

“Rûsa, do you even _realize_ how Haru Fëanor will react if he learns about this!? I do not doubt that you are affected by this horrible event, especially when knowing about your life in Angband, nor do I mean that you are dull-witted, but…oh, now I remember his terrifying madness from when great-grandfather Finwë was slain and the Silmarils stolen by the Enemy…what lead to the Oath…”

“Say no more,” pleaded Saira from her horse, before Narvi jerked Celebrimbor back straight in the saddle.

“Look, there is Formenos!” Maeglin said, getting the others' attention while pointing forwards. Sure enough, there the Fëanorian city was. Rûsa suddenly shuddered, feeling a strange cold in his heart along with a growing feeling that something was wrong. Terrible wrong. Sharing a glare with Celebrimbor, he saw that he was not alone in that feeling.

“We have to hurry…!”

Without warning to Maeglin and Saira, Rûsa made his horse fall into gallop in to order to arrive to Formenos as quickly as he could. At his side, Snowflake did her best to keep up.

“Hey, Rûsa! Celebrimbor! Wait on us!”

Narvi could be heard saying something in Khuzdul that likely was a lot of swearwords against Celebrimbor, as she had not been prepared on that they suddenly followed after Rûsa while riding as mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: All parts of a yew plant are toxic to humans with the exception of the yew berries (however, their seeds are toxic). Yew foliage itself remains toxic even when wilted, and toxicity increases in potency when dried. Symptoms of yew poisoning include an accelerated heart rate, muscle tremors, convulsions, collapse, difficulty breathing, circulation impairment and eventually cardiac arrest. However, there may be no symptoms, and if poisoning remains undetected death may occur within hours. Fatal poisoning in humans is very rare, usually occurring after consuming yew foliage. The leaves are more toxic than the seed.


	10. Premature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the results of Maedhros' yew poisoning is hard on the whole family....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: This chapter contains some family and paternal fears that many people had a good reason to worry about, especially when it comes to a pregnant family member.

It was chaos in Formenos when the four horses galloped into the city. Elves running around, telling one other to find Fëanor's family members.

“What has happened here…”

“Older brother Rûsa!”  

Cúwen showed up, running towards them while crying violently. Quickly dismounting, Rûsa swept her up in his arms before she tripped over her own feet.

“There, there, little sister…what is going on? Why are you crying?”

“I-it is ammë…s-something did happened w-with her…”

Rûsa paled in horror at hearing what his younger half-sister said, realizing that the earlier feeling of terror had been him actually sensing that something was wrong with Maedhros. For a few moments, everything seemed to stop in time for him. Then, acting more on instinct than anything else, Rûsa ran forwards the healing wings while still carrying Cúwen in his arms.

“Rûsa, wait on us others!”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

There was, if possible, even more chaos inside the healing wings. The best healers in Formenos were gathered, running out and in from one room. As much as Rûsa wanted to hurry inside that room, he knew better than that. The healers never liked it when someone was just in the way for their work and would only end up pushing him out. Instead he sat down on a chair, not letting go of Cúwen who was still crying.

“What happened with ammë? Did you see anything?”

Cúwen tried her best to stop crying so she could answer on the question, but she was crying so hard that she could not speak. Yet Rûsa felt that he could not be angry on his sister, this was a trauma which no child should have to face. She was still a little too young to learn the truth about why many Elves distrusted the House of Fëanor, but she was old enough to have seen a difference in other people's behaviour when they left Formenos and it was not unlikely that she soon would start asking about it.

“T-there was a package from the post office…with nut cookies inside…b-but why would someone harm ammë l-like this?”

Rûsa drew a sharp breath, understanding right away that the poison must have been in the cookies. Poison in the food had been a favourite way of Sauron to mess with him in Angband when the Maia felt that he was getting away with too much behind Morgoth's back without any sort of punishment. Could it be that one of the family's old enemies had sent the package? If so, why using a method like that could backfire in so many ways long before that the package had even reached Formenos and were Maedhros meant to be the only target, or had the sender hoped to poison everyone in the House of Fëanor together? So many questions, and so many possibilities about who it could be that had sent the package…

On the other hand, Rûsa seriously doubted that it was someone in Valmar; Ingwë was unlikely to do anything like an attempted poisoning of a fellow royal family and he would also not have allowed the Vanyarin Elves to speak a word about the event with Vanë outside Valmar. No, it must be someone else with a huge grudge against the House of Fëanor for some reason, but who? Everyone in the Noldorin royal family had more or less forgiven old arguments and sins between them, so it could not be someone from the House of Fingolfin or House of Finarfin.

“Then I am happy that you did not eat any of them, sister…or both of you could have been poisoned…”

Cúwen whimpered unclearly in answer, burying her small face in his shoulder to hide her tears and Rûsa held tighter around his sister to comfort her. He noticed several of their family members arriving, and when the healers shooed them out from the room, they came over to give their silent comfort to the siblings.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

While poisoning was nearly unheard off among the Eldar, yew poisoning by mistake had happened before and every healer in Aman were taught how to do with a victim of yew poisoning.

“She is losing consciousness!”

Maedhros did her best to stay awake, but the breathing difficultly and slow heartbeat did not do her much favour. She had vomited at least twice in a attempt to get the poison out of her body, yet the fear of how the poison would affect her unborn child was slipping though her like a icy wind. She was barely aware of Nerdanel placing her hand on her daughter's forehead.

“T…the…baby…!”

Rog, who held Maedhros' hand in order to give her mental support, heard her painful whisper. So had Fëanor, who now spotted that something strange was happening around his daughter's lower abdomen. It was if she had far more serious stomach pains that she tried to show. And there was a growing smell of blood in the air.

“Do not tell me…”

When Fëanor carefully removed the quilt from Maedhros' legs he paled in horror at what she saw, as a large pool of blood was revealed on the bed sheets. The yew poisoning had caused Maedhros to go into premature labour. If they did not manage to stop it, her third child risked being born dangerously premature.

“Get the midwives in here! Tell them that it is a premature birth starting!” commanded Fëanor with growing panic in his voice. Such early births was unheard among the Eldar here in Aman, and given that Maedhros had been poisoned, it was also a serious risk in losing both her and the child.  

“ _I-it hurts…!!_ ”

Maedhros suddenly screamed in pain, as her stomach pains revealed themselves to be real labour contractions. The pain was enough to nearly sending her into unconsciousness, and with her heartbeats being unsteady because of the yew poison, there was grave risk that she would get a cardiac arrest before she could finish the birth.

“Hurry!”

Now it was a matter of time. If they were too slow, the child could be lost unless the poison already had killed it. And if that indeed had happened, then it was better to let Maedhros avoid the pain of a stillbirth in six months when she had come to full term in the pregnancy and making the birth happen now. Even if the pain of losing the child would never fully go away; sometimes things happened even beyond their control.

“Nerdanel, take over here! I need to fix something to stabilize the baby if it, by any miracle, is still alive at birth despite the poisoning of Nelyo!”

Before she could protest, Fëanor hurried out of the room as if Morgoth himself was chasing him.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Many hours later, it was twilight outside. Cúwen had fallen asleep in Rûsa's arms, and he himself was close to dose off. Their family members had gone to get something to eat.

“Rûsa? Cúwen?”

It was Nerdanel who spoke. She had come out from the room, carrying something small wrapped into a blanket. A strange look was in her eyes. For a moment, they feared the worst.

“Your ammë is still fighting against the yew poison in her body. Even if she did not get much of it in her, her fight is not over yet. And…”

She stopped speaking and instead chose to hold forwards the small bundle to Rûsa. Understanding, Cúwen slid off from her brother's lap to leave space. Taking a steady hold, Rûsa carefully lifted away a corner of the blanket and held back a gasp in surprise. A tiny little face, pale as snow, was revealed. Only the tiniest of small breaths told him that the premature infant were alive.

“So tiny…” breathed Cúwen in wonder, almost not believing how small their little brother really was in Rûsa's hands.

“Nelyo wished to call your brother Yuë, as she remembered that it was a full moon on the night he was conceived, and seeing that he is a albino.”

Rûsa nodded, unable to say anything. Little Yuë were so tiny in his large hands,  small enough to almost fit perfectly in one of his hands alone, like a hand-sized ornament doll with about the same weight and looked so frail that one single careless movement would cause him unneeded harm. Then the baby opened his eyes. A pair of bluish-green eyes, almost too large for that small little face, looking around like trying to focus on something. Yet the large eyes were quickly shut at the soft light from the twilight outside, the light being slightly too strong for Yuë's unused eyes.

“Haru? What is that?”

Fëanor had returned, carrying on something with a little help from Curufin. At first glance, it looked like thick glass shaped into an oval shape with some air holes and fitted into a wicker basket.

“When I realized that it would be too late to prevent your sibling from being born too early, I wanted to see if there was a way to keep a steady temperature for the little one and hopefully growing despite having leaving your mother's body.”

Showing where they could open the glass in two parts by the roof, Fëanor nodded to Rûsa to place Yuë inside to help him keep warm. Gently stroking one of Yuë's unbelievable small hands with his thumb, Rûsa then carefully lowered his little half-brother down into the wicket basket. Yuë were so tiny that he almost disappeared in the blanket.

“Lets take Yuë back in to the room where Nelyo is, no doubt that she is more worried for him than herself despite that she still suffers from the poisoning,” suggested Nerdanel as she picked up Cúwen in her arms.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

It was early dawn the next morning, when the healers finally was able to say that Maedhros had survived the poisoning. For now, she had been sent into a healing sleep to recover and would need all the rest they could give her.

“The biggest question is; Why was the poisoned nut cookies sent to Nelyo? And who would dare to do that? Everyone knows the fate of lord Nárion after that he tried to poison us in Tirion…”

“Call me paranoid if you want, lord Fëanor, but I would not overlook the fact that his widow Calcanis would not be very happy with your family just because of that. I remember her as a very arrogant and self-centred woman, trying to use her four sons with lord Nárion to make herself a social climber…” started Saira, and Maeglin was quick to add in her own view:

“The three oldest sons Túrëo, Vórimo and Almo are almost saints in contrast to their parents’ behaviour. All three of them are honest to a fault, and the only reason to why they even obeyed the order to try and woo me in the past was because of that it would please their parents. I do not know why, but from what I caught of the brothers' behaviour, their family life was rather unhappy. I even remember overhearing lord Nárion complain that all three of his older sons were a huge disappointment in his eyes…”    

Saira shuddered. He had not been aware of it himself, but lord Nárion had been rather unpopular among the Noldorin royal family for trying to hook one of their unwed princesses as a royal bride to one of his four sons.  

“Ooh, please don't remind me of his youngest son Finyo, the one who was so horribly mean to Rûsa right before the poisoning happened in the ballroom…he was always so awful, going around and bragging that once we were of age, he would marry me…”  

Maeglin patted Saira on the shoulder as apology.

“The brat which came into the ballroom rushing straight to his mother and nearly threw a temper tantrum in front of everyone just because Rûsa had broken his nose for being a bully to the two of you? And people claimed back in the Years of the Trees that I was spoiled…” muttered Fëanor as he drank a sip of wine, feeling some distaste over his past behaviour at looking back.

“You had a rather legal excurse for that, Atar!” protested Maglor and Curufin quickly, since Fëanor really had been the only Elf in Aman with a missing mother back then because of the whole story with Miriel.

“Hush, all of you, there are two family members who are trying to sleep here!” warned Nerdanel when Maedhros moved on her hand in her healing sleep and Yuë weakly moved inside the blanket at the suddenly loud noise.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Yes, Fëanor did create a somewhat primitive incubator for premature infants, after all the old saying goes: Necessity is the mother of invention. Imagine little Yuë to be about 32 cm long and weighting 760 gram. Seeing that premature babies are often very tiny, he would look even smaller in Rûsa's hands, seeing that Rûsa is two meters tall and naturally would have rather large hands as a result.


	11. Unpleasant rumours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little Yuë fights for his life, and people uses his premature birth against his maternal family

The new day was not many hours old, when the Vala Estë showed up in Formenos. Being the healer of hurts and weariness, she was the most needed power right now after the yew poisoning of Maedhros.

“ _The poison was hidden in the nut cookies, you said?_ ” 

While she promised that Maedhros would soon be healed from the poisoning attempt with enough healing sleep, Estë frowned in worry as she looked over Yuë. The poor babe was almost too young to survive outside the womb, and despite the Elves never getting ill, there was very little doubt that poor Yuë would be sickly in health if he managed to survive. It was even pointed out directly that he had weak lungs when Yuë started to cough rather violently and had to gasp for breath before Estë managed to hold him in such a manner that he got air more easily along with the coughing fit passing. 

“ _I shall be honest, even if it is painful to have to say it: Yuë is currently caught between life and death because of how premature he is born. Not only is he affected by the poisoning of his mother, but even if he were to survive, it will be a very difficult life for him with a frail health and others seeing his premature birth as proof of that the Allfather actually has chosen to punish the House of Fëanor for the Kinslayings after all._ ”

“Great, as if we do not have enough trouble already after our Rebirths with all the rumours about who Rûsa's father is and the protests about Nelyo marrying Rog as her second husband?” Fëanor muttered in a bitter voice, getting a warning glare from Nerdanel as Rog carefully washed Maedhros' feverish face with a wet rag. The fever was a result of the fight she had fought against the yew poison, and as it was now, she was very weak. Estë did not answer him, instead she seemed to focus on Yuë's face and throat.

“ _There is another problem you will have to face…Yuë is mute. The yew_ _poison damaged his vocal cords and lungs, and he is too frail right now for me to be able to heal that without causing him extra pain…_ ”

They all looked at each others in worry. It was enough trouble with trying to keep such a small premature baby alive and growing healthy, learning that he was sickly added a lot of other problems that they had to face.

“He does his best to suck, but it is not much he manages to eat before he gets tired…” said Rûsa in worry as he took back Yuë to try and feed his brother with a very small milk bottle. Because of that Maedhros still could have some of the yew poison in her body, they had not dared to try and bottle feeding Yuë with colostrum from her. Lucky, there had been another She-elf who had given birth yesterday as well and who had offered to share her milk until that they were sure on that Maedhros really was free from the poison. Just like Rûsa had said, poor Yuë did not have much strength to feed from the small bottle despite that he clearly did his best to suck on the teat that belonged to the bottle to get milk.

“ _I will strengthen his_ _Ósanwë, since you otherwise will have difficult with his muteness and he is far too little to learn any other way of telling what he needs._ ”

It took only a few moments for Estë to so once Rûsa had finished bottle-feeding the small baby, but Yuë did not like it very much and tried to move around in the blanket as protest.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The next following days, were hard on the whole family. Not only was it obvious that Yuë would have to stay in the healing wing for a very long time until that he was strong enough to be able to be brought home to the rest of his family, it was difficult to know when he risked having a coughing fit or some other trouble with his breathing.

“Ow! Careful there, Rûsa! Are you trying to break my fingers?” asked Celebrimbor, having been requested to help his cousin letting out some stress and worry by a training match, and dropped his wooden sword to the ground in reaction to the rather painful hit he had been given. To his surprise, Rûsa actually let go of his own training sword and fell down on the knees, actually shaking in fear as he looked on his own hands. For a moment or two, he had really felt himself fall into his old personality as the Warg Rider and barely manage to stop himself from breaking his cousin's fingers.

“S..s-sorry…”     

Rûsa knew that the event with Vanë had caused a lot of trouble in his mind, and the endless worry for Yuë's frail health did not help. He did also remember Seth's warning about that the Warg Rider had started to reawaken inside him, which could make him a danger to his own family.

“Come, Rûsa, lets go back inside. I do not think you are in the right mind for training today,” offered Celebrimbor with concern in his voice. Something clearly had Rûsa since that nightmare event in Valmar, and it was not just the stress over his sickly little half-brother who fought for his life back inside the healing wings.

“N…no. It is not the best of days for me today, indeed. It has happened so much around me lately in such sort time…”

Hesitantly, Rûsa allowed his cousin to help him back up on his feet. He did not really feel all right and privately was happy for the suggestion that they stopped for today.

 

Celebrimbor brought Rûsa inside his and Narvi's home, where she was found forming a small statue of Celebrimbor from shoulders upward.

“The kitchen fire is lit, so just to set on some water if you want tea. I can not leave my work at the moment, I want to finish this.”

It was the last few, finer details on the statue that Narvi wanted to fix. While it was not up to Nerdanel's ability to make her statues look like they were alive, Narvi no less showed her own skills and had caught her husband's likeness very good. As Celebrimbor fixed some tea for Rûsa and himself, Narvi finished the last touches on her work.

“How is little Yuë?”

“He fights for his life every breathing moment. If it is not the family stubbornness that shows up again, I do not know what it is.”

Putting down her working toys on the table where she had made the statue and removing her leather apron, Narvi went to bring some biscuits that they could have to the tea.   

“Not to discourage any of you two, but I have a strong feeling that the poisoning of lady Maedhros and Yuë's premature birth will be the reason for new unpleasant rumours as we speak. A similar event once happened in Khazad-dûm a few years after I had moved there, someone of the Dwarven Lords was very displeased over that his only child, a daughter who was barely of age at the event in question, had not been chosen as the future Queen and tried to get rid of the back-then Crown princess Ragnhild with poison when it was learned that she was pregnant with the future Durin II’s child. She was lucky to survive the attempt on her life, but her poor baby sadly was lost in a very late miscarriage and as an extra insult to their grief, it would have been a princess that she would have birthed otherwise.”

“And a horrible deed to the Children of Aulë as a whole on top of that, seeing that Dwarrowdams are only 1/3 of their race. Any daughter born to a Dwarven couple, no matter their social status, is worth far more than any jewels, gold and gems that they otherwise creates. The Dwarrowdams are seen as a hope for the future, not only in possible marriages and as mothers, but as reminders that the Maker loves his children,” added Celebrimbor from where he was sitting. Rûsa did not say anything as he listened on the tale. He knew that in many ways, it was very dangerous to be a royal; the event with Vanë's attempt to force him into marriage was a good example.

“How did it end?”

“The Dwarf Lord was executed for his crime against the royal family; his horrified daughter had openly disowned him at the trial and exiled herself from Khazad-dûm in shame over what her sire had tried to do, her mother had already died a couple of years earlier in a sickness. From what little I know about her fate, she ended up in Orocarni and never married.”

His mug of tea in his hands suddenly seemed very interesting to Rûsa as Narvi spoke, and he quickly drank some tea to think of something else.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In Tirion Finwë and many others in the Noldorin royal family had gotten the horrible news about what had happened to Maedhros and that Yuë had been born premature as reaction on the yew poison.

“ ** _Why_** …why is it always them who become a target for people's hate about the Kinslayings…?”

Had he not already been sitting down on a chair, Finwë would have collapsed from the shock over what the unexpected letter from Fëanor revealed. He was not the only present family member who was close to tears in horror over that someone could attack a pregnant mother and her unborn child like this.

“Forgiveness…so hard to earn, so hard to give…” whispered Finrod as he held his arms around Amarië, who was crying over what had happened in Formenos. Turgon had left the chamber earlier, mumbling something about “needing to pray in the chapel alone” as he had remembered all the harsh words he had spoken about the Fëanorians and Rûsa in the past. Looking at the letter in his hand again, Finwë spoke:

“Indis, my dear. Please request one of our scribes to come here. I have something that needs to be spoken aloud out to all of Tirion. Even if my first-born might be wrong in who it was that poisoned Nelyo, we still need to hand out an official warning about future attempts like this. These kind of attacks against the House of the Noldirin Crown-prince has to stop; I will not allow this to happen again!”

There was a hidden, cold fury in his voice as he spoke, a kind of voice that Noldorin soldiers in Middle-earth during the First Age had quickly learnt to obey without question from Finwë's exiled family members. Now the Noldorin High King himself would make people remember who some of the greatest heroes of the First Age was descendants of.  

 

Naturally, it did not take long before Finwë's official warning was known in all of Aman. At first, many political enemies to the House of Fëanor did not really think that he was being serious and that Finwë was just making an unneeded big fuss over Maedhros' “temporary illness” as it was called in public and that Eru himself had finally punished Maedhros for her past sins as a Kinslayer in the First Age by letting her suffer by with a weak, premature child that likely would soon die anyway. That kind of callous talk about Maedhros' family, however, was quickly and brutally punished by the Noldorin royal family; not only a public humiliation at the Main Square in Tirion, but they were also forced to wander barefoot, as penitents, all the way to Formenos to kneel and literally beg the House of Fëanor for their forgiveness. Something that turned out to be much harder to be given than one might think, since neither Fëanor himself or his children forgot an insult so easily.

“We will forgive those rumours about my poor daughter and her youngest son when it turns out that it is more offspring from a marriage between an Elf and a Second-born than what is known!” Fëanor snarled at them in barely restrained anger as he was held back by two of his sons. To show their official city ruler's point about what he just had said, the gate guards of Formenos actually slammed the heavy city gate shut in the face of the outside Elves.

“Don't let those people from Tirion enter Formenos as they want!” Fëanor's voice was heard commanding from behind the shut gate. One reason to that order was to show that his family did not forgive insults so easily, but another reason was also to prevent impudent political enemies in Tirion from coming to Formenos and boast to Maedhros in her current grief over Yuë's premature birth that at least _their_   wife had given birth to a healthy, full-term baby that clearly was not the “result of past sins”. Such visitors was the last thing Maedhros and Rog needed now when their youngest child were fighting for his life with every breath.     

~X~X~X~X~X~X

On the other hand, when former allies from the First Age and good friends learnt what had happened to Maedhros and that her youngest child had been born premature, a lot of far more welcomed get well-wishes, Dwarven tips for how to treat both mother and child at a premature birth and small gifts arrived to Formenos in a very quick order. Unsurprisingly, several of those gifts, especially those that came from the Dwarves and the Avari Clans, were different kinds of amulets that was meant to help Yuë in different ways, from growing more healthy to become stronger. Even if the members of the House of Fëanor normally did not believe in such things, the meaning behind the amulets was still welcomed.

“Anything that could help Yuë to get better in some way is welcomed,” said Maedhros in a hopeful voice as she tried to nurse Yuë. He was still very small, but now his sucking had gotten a little bit stronger since the premature birth and made valiant attempts to nurse from his mother while she had a filled milk bottle close by, just in case he turned out to not have the strength to nurse.

“Aye, in that you have a fair point,” answered Caranthir as he finished making a baby mobile from some of the amulets that had been sent as gift for Yuë and hung it up above the incubator so Yuë could have something to look on if he woke up but was not hungry or needed a new nappy.

“Is there any need of help here?” asked Rána as she looked inside the room. Maedhros shook on her head in answer, while keeping a watchful eye on Yuë who had started to get sleepy and therefore nursed more slowly.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Meanwhile, things had turned notably different in Valmar over the last few weeks.   

“ ** _Again?_** ” Ingwë asked in a tired voice when he found, among his daily letters with requests from his people, a complaint from a set of parents who had discovered a son of theirs in the middle of running away from home in the middle of the past night because “ _he doesn't want to marry a properly-raised young lady in favour of a girl from the Avarin Wood clan!_ ” as the horrified mother had written, clearly being very scandalized over her son being in love with a non-Vanyarin girl. Ingwë sighed deeply, before he closed the letter again.

“Really, is it that hard to understand that the newer generations do not want to repeat the lives of their parents and grandparents when it comes to marriage? There are a very limited number of marriage chances if you only keep your marriage goal to your own social status over time. And what exactly am I supposed to do about the increasing number of youngsters trying to run away after the event with Vanë the day after the Spring Ball? Order Valmar to shut its gates and lock my people away from the rest of Aman in the hopes that no one will wonder why? No, it would rather make people starting to wonder what really is going on here.”

Sometimes Ingwë wondered where it had gone so wrong, when his people had started to become so painfully pious that they flat out refused to tell their children how things really had been at Cuiviénen when the first Elves had Awakened. And the most pious moral guardians among the Vanyarin sometimes complained that the Noldor and the Teleri was too reckless when it came to welcoming the Sindarin and Avarin Elves into Aman?

“…when did my people turn into such bloody pious peacocks to hypocrites? And they have the nerve to wonder why their strictly-raised sons and daughters have started to look dull and boring as possible marriage partners when the Sindarin and Avarin youngsters suddenly bring in a lot of fresh air on the marriage market with their cultures from Middle-earth!” Ingwë muttered softly to himself in frustration. He had done his best to teach his own children and grandchildren to be open-minded about non-Vanyarin Elves, always telling them that acting high-and-mighty against others would come to bite them eventually. As far as they knew, all this scandal with Vanë was a perfect example on what Ingwë had meant in that.

“My lord father, do you need some help?” asked Ingwion as he entered the royal office. Without a word, Ingwë pushed the remaining letters from his people to his son.

“Another set of parents being scandalized about a possible Avarin law-son or law-daughter? I do not see anything bad in a mixed marriage…I mean, many of the Noldorin royal family members are the result of such marriages…” said Ingwion as he looked on a small painting behind his father, which was of the House of Fëanor and its current members and had been made a couple of years ago. Ingwë had requested the painting as a sign of that he did not hold the events that had happened during three Kinslayings against them.

“And yet only princess Maeglin and princess Cúwen are known to be half-Avarin by their fathers currently. On the other hand, there are several reasons to why they are the only ones so far…but I do not doubt that it will be a change in that soon. After all, times have changed since the Years of the Trees and the First Age; the Noldor, the Vanyar and the Teleri are no longer the only Elves here in Aman, we need to become more open-minded and trying to forgive past sins or we will never be able to free ourselves from the Dark Lords' honeyed words of hidden poison,” Ingwë confided to his son, focusing once more on the paper work in front of him as Ingwion turned around to leave. He wanted to at least get some of it done before luncheon today.

“Oh, and Ingwion?”

The Vanyarin crown prince stopped in his movement; with his hand on the door handle, in case it was something important that his father wished to say.

“Yes, father?

“You are among the night guards tonight, right? Let the youngsters actually leave Valmar if you spot anyone sneaking around on the streets; their parents need to learn the harsh truth that they can't shelter their children all their lives before the children leaves the home for a marriage. After all, it is better that the young ones get a chance to see the world outside their parents' control and learns that not everything is happening as they have been taught their whole lives.”

“As you wish, father.”   

Ingwion bowed before he left the office. Smiling to himself as the door was closed, Ingwë dropped his quill in some ink and started to write on a get well-letter to Maedhros where he wished both her and Yuë good health despite how things had started in his young life.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Khazad-dûm is better known as Moria from LOTR. The exact reigning years of king Durin II is not known, but I like the idea that Narvi was more or less contemporary with him and that the Doors of Durin were built in his honor. Seeing that Tolkien often used old Norse names for the Dwarves, a name like Ragnhild seemed to fit for a Dwarf Queen as it is a name that can be found already from the Viking Age on Runestones. The Orocarni is a mountain range in the far east of Middle-earth, inhabited by four of the Dwarf clans.   


	12. Growing family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the House of Fëanor is slowly growing in family members

Against all odds and much to their political enemies' great disappointment mixed with not so small amount of fear for their careless words about him being a undeniable proof that the House of Fëanor finally was being punished by the Allfather himself for their past deeds as Kinslayers, Yuë did actually survive the critical months that followed his premature birth. Sure, he was still very sickly and caused endless worry for his family every time he had a coughing fit, but he had grown a lot from how tiny he had been at his birth and now looked more like a full-term newborn.

“Easy there, Yuë, don't eat too fast,” smiled Maedhros as she nursed him. Her youngest son still was not one to eat a lot, but he had gotten much better at eating if you were to check with how things had been during his first days of life.

“Good boy.”

Today it was the date of the naming ceremony that would have happened if he had been carried to full term, so in many ways, it was a very important day for her family.

“Ammë, look!”

Cúwen showed up in the door to her younger brother's nursery, showing herself to Maedhros in the pale green dress that she had gotten for the naming ceremony by the Sand clan.

“You look wonderful, my girl. Now, where is your older brother?”

A few muffled swearwords from the mirror out in the corridor revealed that Rûsa had some difficultly in taming his thick mane to hair with the hairbrush so it would look neat at the ceremony and not look like a serious case of bed hair he was always plagued with right after leaving the bed in the morning. Maedhros shook on her head. Thick hair was not uncommon in the House of Fëanor, but poor Rûsa had gotten some of the thickest hair they had seen in the family. Maedhros shook on her head again as her firstborn looked inside, his hair still in a minor mess and the hairbrush in one hand. Had they not known better, they would have mistaken the look in Yuë's green eyes as a sign that he mentally was laughing at how Rûsa's hair looked at the moment.

“Yeah, yeah, I know that I look silly, baby brother,” grinned Rûsa as he bent down and gently pinned Yuë's little button to nose for a moment. In return, Yuë hiccupped slightly as response.

“Cúwen, please try and help Rûsa with his hair, I have my arms full at the moment so it is a little difficult for me to do that,” requested Maedhros with a meaningful look on her younger son. Cúwen was quick to obey the request, dragging Rûsa along by his ceremonial cloak.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Pretty much everyone in the Noldorin royal family was present; the few family members who were missing had legal reasons for their absence, being away as ambassadors to the courts of Olwë and Thingol. On the other hand, it had surprised them all to see Ingwë arrive alone to Formenos yesterday, with only saying something that he needed a short break from his people that he had left in the skilled hands of his son Ingwion and simply meant to stay in Formenos as a pilgrim under a few days. Nonetheless, he was welcomed to witness the naming ceremony.

“No one else missing outside those who are at the other royal courts? Good, let's start then.”

As per tradition when it was a new birth in his royal family, despite that this little great-grandson had been born six months premature and they had not known if he would survive, it was Finwë who performed the naming ceremony.

“…by the grace of Eru Ilúvatar, the All-Father; Esselya Yuë ná.”

Yuë was sleeping throughout the whole ceremony, for he got tired easily and it was also normal for him to take a nap during this time of the day. The light blue blanket helped to not make him look so horribly pale despite that he was an albino; rather it helped to soften how white his skin was.

“Little sleepyhead,” cooed Rog gently with a soft laugh as he took Yuë from Maedhros to let her arms rest a bit. His young son stirred in sleep at his voice without waking up, instead finding his thumb and started to suck on it. Even if he was mute, there was nothing wrong with his behaviour otherwise.

“He has grown strong indeed. He might never become a warrior, but there are other abilities a prince can have.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The ceremonial meal afterwards is simple, but fitting the season. After all, it was late autumn and not much fresh fruits or vegetables anymore at this time of the year.

“Forgive my bluntness, Ingwë, but what is going on in Valmar lately? We have not seen much of your people outside Valmar this summer, and a lot of Vanyarin youngsters have been found around Aman, all refusing to return home.”

Rûsa froze in a movement at his great-grandfather's sudden question, although he quickly got an excuse for his behaviour in that Yuë awoke and started crying. Ingwë lowered his goblet slowly, not saying anything at first as he searched for a good white lie.

“One of the noble-born girls was a little…too forward and rude against several other youngsters on the Spring Ball. They were horribly upset by her behaviour, and wanted to get away from Valmar for a while.”   

Rûsa relaxed when he realized that the Vanyarin High King would not reveal what Vanë had done against him, for even if it was little over six months since it had happened he still did not really feel emotionally ready to tell his family what really had happened the day after the Spring Ball. After all, it was indirectly the reason to why he had been forced to fight once more against his own inner demons again alongside the stress of the yew poisoning that had caused Yuë to be born premature.

“Is something wrong, Narvi?” whispered Celebrimbor as he bent down to her. She had been acting strange the last half of an hour or so during the meal, and it worried him a bit, especially as she was in the last months of her own pregnancy. Given that their child was the first known child that would be born to an Elven parent and a Dwarven parent, they did not know for how long she would be carrying the baby. An Elvish pregnancy lasted for twelve months, while a Dwarven pregnancy lasted for fifteen months, making it pretty logical that Narvi's pregnancy would last somewhere between.

“Please ask your mother and lord Elrond to come over to our house…I think it is time.”

He did not need to ask what she meant.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Indeed, it was Narvi's own labour which had begun. Lucky, their house was not too far away from the small palace where the naming ceremony had happened so Narvi had been able to walk home, despite that it naturally did hurt a bit during the walk.

“I prefer to give birth here in my own home, it feels a lot more natural to be in a place that I know…” gasped Narvi slightly in pain as she got some help from Astarë to get out of the finer clothes she had worn for Yuë's naming ceremony, she would change into something more simple later. Right now she only wanted to get rid of the layers of clothing she had worn. Astarë had arrived first to the house after that Celebrimbor had told her why Narvi had left.

“Tyelpë was born in our home as well, so I can understand why.”

By now, Elrond has arrived too. He had gotten a letter earlier from Celebrimbor about the possibility that Narvi soon would give birth, and had therefore packed some of the things he would need if his help was requested.

“Just a quick check and a couple of questions that I always do when a female patient is in labour: about how far in the pregnancy is you, lady Narvi?” inquired Elrond as he checked her heartbeat by holding his fingers against the pulse on her wrist.

“Thirteen and a half months, give or take a couple of days. The pregnancy of a Dwarrowdam normally is fifteen months…with a husband of her own race,” answered Narvi, adding the last part with a glare towards Celebrimbor who were busy in fixing a hot bath for her so she would not have so much pain from the contractions.

“Then it is safe to say that a pregnancy with a mixed-race baby is right between the different pregnancies between your own races.”

It was technically not the first time Elrond had helped during the birth of a mixed-race baby, he had been a present “midwife” at all the four times that his twin brother Elros had became a father with his mortal human wife. On the other hand, this was the first time the still-unborn baby in question did have Dwarven blood, so it was a little hard to blame him for asking Narvi what she knew about Dwarven ways in pregnancy and birth.

“The warm bath is fixed,” called Celebrimbor from the hallway, already having his arms full with clean towels and blankets that he would carry to the birthing room. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As both Fingolfin and Finarfin were present, they took the chance to speak with their granddaughters about the months that they had spent in Formenos to give support for Maedhros and Rog for everything with Yuë.

“So…you all think that it is Calcanis' attempt to revenge her husband? And to lessen the risk of Nelyo's sons being seen as heirs to the throne before Cúwen and any future sisters she might have?” asked Finarfin as all four walked along a street in Formenos to be left alone during their talk.

“Yes. After all, who can forget that horrible pair's endless attempts to have one among their four sons married to one of us? Imagine how things might have been, if lady Nelyo had not found out about Nárion's plans with a marriage to her and really had ended up married to him! Can any of you imagine how he would have reacted about Rûsa being Taurion's son?” commented Maeglin, as she shuddered at the thought, from where she was walking beside her maternal grandfather. So far, Finarfin had not said anything but it was clear that he wanted to listen on what they all had to speak about before saying anything himself.

“If she even had been having any strength left for another childbirth then, I do not doubt that Nárion would have tried to make Nelyo pregnant as often he could, just to increase the chance to either become prince consort to the first High Queen of the Noldor or father to a new High King…” Fingolfin mumbled while he remembered how Maedhros had been looking like when Fingon saved her. He also remembered her words about that Rûsa's birth had taken a lot of her spiritual strength, all in her attempt to keep them both alive in memory of what eventually had lead to Taurion's suicide.

“You mean…she might have shared Lady Miriel's fate and die as a result of the childbirth during her captivity in Angband, because of that Rûsa would have been her lastborn child in her old body? And that Nárion would have used Rûsa's birth as proof to his claim that she had been unfaithful to him?” Saira wondered in understandable worry, looking terrified at the mental image of that. Finarfin nodded, not doubting for a moment that a marriage with Nárion would have made Maedhros extremely unhappy in the marriage once his true colours would have been shown long before it had happened with her own parents and worn out as a mother by an early age for the Elves from becoming pregnant with multiple children born too close after one other. Unless she would have followed Fëanor to Middle-earth out of pure desperation to escape Nárion, and trying to take their children with her.

“At least Nelyo would not have been so foolish. Yes, she was a bit more naïve in her youth, but never stupid enough for fall for a _ner_ out of the blue. The discontinued relationship with Nárion burned her when it came to possible relationships, greatly fearing that she would only be married for her status as our brother's Heiress, for the rest of the Years of the Trees before the Darkening, and we all know Rog's version of the events…”

Privately, all four were almost happy in how things had turned out in reality during the First Age. Sure, it was not perfect or how they would have wished to happen, but the thought of how things could have been far worse was horribly scary. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By the next morning, several message birds were found outside the houses where the different members in the House of Fëanor lived. Once everyone saw what the message was about, they were quick to get dressed. After all, how often could you say that you could witness an event like this one?

“No, I will take Yuë with me, go ahead, you three.”   

Yuë looked around on his family members with large green eyes from inside the blankets, clearly wondering what was going on and why they acted like this. He made an unheard little protest, born mute as he was, as Maedhros bent down to kiss his forehead for the temporary goodbye before she left with her two older children. It was not that her youngest son disliked to be carried by Rog, he simply wished to be with his ammë at the current moment.

“Do not worry, my boy, I will hand you over to your ammë soon,” promised Rog as he dressed in his outdoor winter clothing, having long learned the signs of when Yuë wanted his mother.

 

In the house belonging to Celebrimbor and Narvi, there was a air of pure joy and happiness, the kind of feeling one could sense around a pair that just had became parents. And indeed, Celebrimbor was found in the birthing room beside the bed where Narvi was resting, smiling with an unusual tender look in his silver-grey eyes on the small bundle of blankets in his arms.  

“Everyone, please meet our daughter Frëja Haldamírë.”

The baby clearly was a mix of her unusual set of parents; a lighter skin tone than Narvi's own dark one blending in with Celebrimbor's high cheekbones, yet there was the busy eyebrows of the Dwarves and the faintest hint of a light brown little sideburn at her slightly pointed ears, revealing that she would become a lovely brunette as she grew up, and the light blue eyes she had inherited from both her Dwarven maternal grandfather and Elvish paternal grandmother. Like all newborn babies, little Frëja was looking ugly-cute at the best. But there was indeed something special about her, being the first known offspring born between an Elf and a Dwarf.

“She is lovely,” cooed Astarë who was already in love with her half-Dwarven granddaughter. It took a little longer to persuade Curufin into holding Frëja, who was not as sure about it as his wife. Frëja did not cry or so, but she gave her paternal grandfather a look that really said “ _say that I am ugly and I will make you temporarily deaf, grandpa!_ ” in true Fëanorian style. Curufin seemed to get the warning hint in her eyes, for he smiled awkwardly in pride of becoming a grandfather before giving Frëja back to Narvi.

“The first great-grandchild born in the House of Fëanor. Now people can't say anymore that our House is doomed to stay at three generations,” declared Fëanor with pride over that it now was four generations in his growing family.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: According to the website realelvish dot net, Haldamírë means Hidden Jewel in Quenya. Remembering that many of the names on Tolkien’s Dwarves are old Norse? I felt that the name Freja, from the fertility goddess in the Viking mythology, would fit on a child born between a Dwarf and Elf. I only changed the letter A to make it sound more like Middle-earth.


	13. Debutante ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saira's Coming-of-age ceremony and debutante ball brings the family together

Year 100 in the Fourth Age, Tirion. A hundred years had now passed since the beginning of the current Fourth Age of the Sun and it was the 25 March, the day when Sauron had been defeated. But it was not the only reason for a celebration today. It was also Saira's 100th Begetting Day, the day when she came of age and became an official adult by law.

“Why in the name of the Valar did we have to get up before dawn?” groaned the now 90-year-old Rûsa and tried to hide a yawn behind his hand from where he was sitting beside his mother, his lap filled with his two sleeping half-siblings who had fallen back into sleep the moment they had sat down.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart. I guess it is because of that many of the parents to her Vanyarin peers wished for their daughters to share the Coming-of-age ceremony with her…”

“And they ignored the wishes of her Noldorin and Telerin friends, just because of that they are not as pious as the Vanyarin Elves?” Rûsa asked in a whisper to not awake the younger ones, while stopping Cúwen from rolling over his knees in sleep and by that, landing hard on the floor. Yuë remained still as usual, holding a small stuffed cat toy in his arms. On that Maedhros had no answer, but the unspoken words were enough for Rûsa. Snorting, he pulled up Cúwen so she leant against their mother so he could focus on Yuë. Really, it was no wonder that some of the Vanyarin moral guardians had tried to pretend that things had not changed at all, at least since Ingwë made that law ten years ago about that it now was compulsory to send away their sons and daughters to people outside Valmar so they could learn a little about the world outside. And then they had the nerve of complaining about the notable lack of “proper” wedding partners ever since several of their sons and daughters had started to return home to Valmar with a Avarin Elf as their self-chosen betrothed.  

“They are coming now. Wake those two up,” whispered Rog as he spotted a small trail of lit candle lights coming closer. That request was easy to follow, both his children were normally light sleepers and only needed one or two careful pokes in the ribs to wake up.

_The night treads heavily_

_around yards and dwellings_

_In places unreached by sun,_

_the shadows brood_

_To us with hope he comes,_

_the blessed light of the Trees,_

_Star of Eärendil_

As the top-ranking of the noble-born maidens and youths who came of age this year thanks to her royal status, Saira was leading the group towards the open space where they would be. Dressed in white, with a golden crown where it was five lit candles, she stood as the central figure. It was true that Saira was one of the shorter members in the Noldorin royal family, but in her case it fit her better than being very tall. She gave away a gentle and warm aura, giving everyone a feeling of her kind personality but also a minor warning that even a fair golden rose like her could have hidden thorns as well.

“Thank goodness that we have planned for a more traditional Avarin coming-of-age hunt for you in ten years. Even if you might have to go though some of the traditional Noldorin rituals, it will be something fun afterwards,” promised Maedhros to Rûsa in a whisper as Saira was marked with blessed water on her forehead and palms before she was given a pendant in the shape of the Two Trees. Only adults among the Vanyarin Elves wore these, a sign of that they had come of age. Since Saira was a Noldorin Elf on Finrod's side of the family and a Vanyarin Elf on Amarië's side, they had requested a mix of the coming-of-age ceremonies for their daughter.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Once the ceremony was over, there was a break for two hours before it would be time for the Noldorin version of a coming-of-age for a high-born girl; an debutante ball. Seeing that it had became notably rarer for such events in the Noldorin royal family, especially in contrast to the Years of the Trees when Finwë had no less than sixteen grandchildren from his three sons alone that would make their social debut at their coming-of-age, this was a important event in Tirion.

“Look at you, sweetheart. Is that really your best attempt to not be noticed?” smiled Maedhros at seeing what Rûsa was wearing. The light emerald green and snow white robes brought out the contrasting colours in his dark red hair, tanned skin and black eyes.

“Unless you have found a way to make me shorter, ammë, what can I do?” replied Rûsa with a set of hair pins between his teeth, as he was in another endless battle against the thickness of his hair. At his older brother's feet, Yuë kept himself busy with a book. The youngest sibling had not yet bothered to change into his finer robes while Cúwen were trying to fix a nice bow in her hair in another corner of the room.

“Why do we have to be there too? All three of us are not of age…”

“When a royal family member comes of age, everyone has to be present, even those who are not of age themselves. It was the same on my time,” Maedhros answered as she helped her daughter with the hair bow. In the safety behind Rûsa's legs, Yuë made a face at hearing what his mother said. He really did not want to come along to the ball; the young albino knew that people would only start talking badly about him behind the back on Maedhros and Rog. The fact that he was mute and could not use his own voice to protest against the horrible rumours about himself was rather annoying for him.

“Hey, Yuë, why are you looking like you have a thundercloud over your head now?” asked Rûsa as he spotted the bad mood his half-brother was in and carefully pulled up Yuë in his arms. Yuë answered with laying his head on his older brother's shoulder. It was not uncommon for Yuë to be very withdrawn for several reasons, only really opening up to his family and a few very close friends to the family.

_I do not want to hear other Elves speak badly about our family. Or rather, the mortal guardians,_ Rûsa heard Yuë answer by his Ósanwë. Being mute, that and sign language was his main ways of telling things. The whole family had gotten rather skilled in being able to read Yuë's mood or facial expressions over the years. Sometimes all Yuë needed, was to change something in his face to tell a full sentence without words.

“I know, little brother, you are not alone in disliking those people. Just because of that things got a little messed up with great-grandfather Finwë's marriage history to great-grandmother Miriel and Queen Indis does not mean that history needs to repeat itself in _our_ family….” Rûsa started, before Maedhros took the chance to add a comment of her own once she figured out what her sons were talking about:

“Seriously, stepfamilies are a lot more common here in Aman those days, especially among the Avarin clans. Just look at the Wood clan and Taurion's children! Do all those half-siblings hate each others for sharing only their common father as parent? No, they are a tight-knitted family that protects each others.”

“What are you four talking about?” asked Rog as he looked inside the room to check on the situation. As Maedhros answered him, Yuë took the chance to slip down to the floor from Rûsa's arms.

“Hiiiii!”

Suddenly the sound of rather heavy steps for an Elf was heard from the corridor and a new person showed up in the door.

“Hello there, Frëja. You sound eager for the ball later.”

The ten-year-old daughter of Celebrimbor and Narvi nodded, twisting one of her light brown side braids around a finger while trying to not trip on her light purple-coloured dress. Being Half-Elven, she did not have much when it came to a beard but far more when it came to her hair. Even at the young age of ten years old, Frëja had a rather impressive set of thick braids falling down along her back.

“Of course I am eager! But also a little nervous…since it is the first time I will sing for people outside Formenos and the Halls of the Forefathers…”

Instead of inheriting her parents' skills as a blacksmith or stone worker, Frëja had turned out to have a rather good singing voice and under Maglor's tutorage, she had already made a couple of small singing debuts for her family.   

“You will be fine, Frëja. You have done this before over the past two years. We will all be there, so do not worry too much…and let go of my leg, thank you!” assured Rûsa to Frëja on the same time as he tried to not trip over Yuë who still had a strong hold of his leg.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Before long, it was time for the debutante ball. Many families of the highest elite of sociality among the different Eldar were present. Since Maedhros' branch of the House of Fëanor rarely had left Formenos in the past ten years because of the simple reason that Yuë was sickly in health many eyes fell upon them as they entered the ball room.

“Look, there they are.”

“Clearly Princess Cúwen is the child of her second husband; she is far too alike them both to not be fathered by someone else. But the sons of Princess Nelyafinwë, on the other hand…”

Rûsa felt Yuë pull very hard on his robes, seeking for safety from his older brother. Pulling him closer, Rûsa gave several nobles a warning glare that shut them up for now. But he knew that once he was not looking at them or were out of hearing, those haughty people would be quick to start their horrible whispers again.

“Really, is it that hard to see that Yuë is very alike atto Rog in face shape and such once you look past the fact that he is an albino?” wondered Cúwen out aloud on purpose as Yuë was brave enough to show his face instead of hiding behind Rûsa. Perhaps as a unspoken agreement on that, Saira came over to the five family members. Greeting them in a family manner, she then asked:

“May I borrow Rûsa for the first dance?”

“Of course, my lady.”

Being asked as partner for the first dance by a debutante was seen as a great honor, especially if her dance partner was not of age himself. Pretty naturally, the sight of Maedhros' firstborn son dancing with Finrod's only child was the target for an unusual sight: not just in terms of their height difference and such, but in other ways too.

“Yuë did not seem too happy to be here,” Saira whispered as they followed the steps alongside the music. Rûsa might be a giant in height, but now he revealed himself to be surprising graceful with his long limbs in the dance.  

“He really is not, not at all. Would you like to be in a place where people will not hesitate to speak badly and possibility start ill rumours about yourself? He is only ten years old, yet he has already faced a lot of prejudices about being an albino and mute as well from outside the Avarin Elves. Among the Avarin Clans, albinos are seen as a blessing for their family, yet there are some among our enemies that does not see kindly on it,” Rûsa answered in a soft voice as they danced. Saira frowned deeply at hearing that; both Maeglin and herself had helped Maedhros and Rog as a set of unofficial nursemaids under the months that had followed after Yuë's premature birth, to help them remove some of the stress and worry about him. To hear people talk in such an unkind way about Yuë, was therefore not a way to get favour with them. Mentally, she wished that it was something she could do for him.

“If you do not mind, Saira, so do I think that Yuë would be very happy to have a dance with you later when it is time for the little surprise with Frëja.”

Saira smiled at hearing that, she had been warned ahead of that singing surprise earlier and liked the idea of showing some of the present nobles that the Dwarves could have high class as well in their own way.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Because of that he was mute and the target for several unfriendly words once people spotted him, it was rather understandable that Yuë tried to keep away from the other Elflings. Of course, he was not trying to act in an arrogant way or so, it was simply that muteness mixed with a rather serious case of shyness did not really work very well in social situations, especially as Yuë could not trust on people already knowing sign language and he was also rather hesitant in using Ósanwë to talk with people mentally.

“Yuë, come over here instead of running around like a hunted rabbit,” offered Celegorm when he saw his youngest nephew trying to hide behind a pillar. While Yuë indeed was the size of a human three-year-old and thus was rather small, he could almost become a ghost at times because of how soundless he was.

_Why can't people just stop to talk badly about me and my brother?! What right do they have to do that?_

Yuë tried his best to throw a “silent” temper tantrum as his family called it, without making it look like he was angry on his uncle if someone looked that way. He normally was slow to anger, depending what it was about, but even he had a limit to how much he could take. Suddenly, Yuë drew a sharp breath and tried to avoid having someone overhear his violent coughing fit; he did not want to hear any rude comment about his sickly health right now.

“Easy there, Yuë. Try to breathe.”

Celegorm knew that, despite being the third-born out of seven siblings, he was not that great with children. He liked them, yes, and knew how to care for them, but not everyone turns out to have much interest in being parents of their own. But for now, Celegorm focused on trying to help his youngest nephew until that the coughing fit had passed. Thankfully, Yuë never had any coughing fits for a long time and they only lasted for a few minutes, but they never knew when one was on the way. Yuë's sickly heath was a constant worry for them all, even if he had grown stronger over the years since his premature birth. Gasping for breath Yuë pulled in his belt bag after a small glass bottle and drank a sip of the liquid medicine inside it, the coughing fits caused Yuë to need a specially-made medicine that Elrond had created for him because of how exhausted he could become by a coughing fit.  

“Yuë?”

Looking up, Yuë saw that Rûsa had taken the chance to dance with Maeglin and that Saira was on her way towards them. Celegorm gave her a polite nod before pushing his nephew towards her.

“Your brother told me that you wished for a small dance during Frëja's singing.”

Blushing deeply so nearly his whole little face went dark pink while he lowed his green eyes towards the medicine bottle in his hands, Yuë nodded while Saira smiled gently at his shyness. He was really cute.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By now Maglor, Fingon and Finrod had seated themselves at the small scene to play on their harps. Most people believed that the trio would simply play and was therefore rather surprised when Frëja showed up as well.

“That is prince Telpërinquar's Half-elven baseborn brat with that female Dwarf…”

“For real, the rumours about him fathering a child like that is true?!”

“Scandalous…as if the House of Fëanor could sink any lower…”

But the whispers were quickly silenced when people saw Frëja stare at them without saying anything. She might not have her paternal family's grey eyes, but in the right light and on the right distance, her light blue eyes could look really ice-blue and cold-looking. It was the stare Fëanor was infamous for, which nearly all of his descendants had inherited from him. Frëja was used to hear people comment about her unusual parents, but she disliked to hear them say as if her father had done a serious mistake when he fell in love with her mother just because she was a Dwarf. Then, Maglor coughed loudly to make Frëja focus on what she would do and started to play on his harp. Fingon and Finrod were quick in finding the tune. Frëja started to sing:

_Oh golden heart_

_Grant me a wish_

_Hear my song_

_Guide me a path_

_To the starry sky_

_Oh golden heart_

_Oh golden heart_

_Sing to the sky_

_My wish for love_

_Carry my heart_

_To the one_

_That I loves so_

_To Him who holds_

_My young heart_

_In his hands_

_Oh golden heart_

_Carry my wish_

_So we forever_

_Will be together_

_To the end of time_

_Oh golden heart_

Her voice was a little unexpected deep despite her young age because of her Dwarven blood, yet there was no doubt that she really had talent for singing. While it was far from how Maglor could enchant people with his powerful voice, Frëja's song carried around in the ball room, while Saira and Yuë danced side by side with Rûsa and Maeglin. It might look a little awkward given how small Yuë was in size but Saira clearly did not mind if it seemed ridiculous in other people's eyes, if she could cheer up Yuë from what people said about Maedhros' different sons it would be easily to ignore that she made herself look a little silly on his behalf.

“Beautiful song Frëja is singing. Who wrote the words? It does not sound like the style of your uncle, Rûsa,” whispered Maeglin to him in order to not interrupt the singing. As answer, Rûsa carefully glared over towards Yuë who now was smiling openly in pure joy as Saira danced around with him. Maeglin got the hint, smiling at him.

“A future little scribe, huh? Well, I remember Haru Fingolfin comment something about that great-uncle Fëanor's family was missing a scholar of their own given how many different professions there are in your family,” she laughed and Rûsa had to smile in agreement.

“Indeed it is. I am already looking forwards to read out aloud what Yuë might tell us in letters home about people first not noting him during a meeting because of that he is mute and then their reaction on hearing him speak to them by using Ósanwë in the middle of a discussion,” he smirked while Frëja finished her song. The dance between the two dance-couples ended as well, so Rûsa picked up Yuë in his arms to carry him back to Maedhros.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: I based the Vanyarin Coming-of-age ceremony a little on how Lucia is celebrated in Sweden. Yes, poor Yuë is still sickly after his premature birth and not too happy about being mute thanks to what people tends to say about him, sadly. I got an idea for the song lyrics from “Sing sweet nightingale” from the Disney movie Cinderella from 1950. Want to “hear” how Frëja sounds like when she is singing? Check out Tsubasa Chronicles - Sakura´s song in Japanese on youtube


	14. Regrets of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past can still hurt

While the debutante ball was going on in Tirion, things went on as usual in the rest of Aman. On a mountain road deep inside the Pelóri, two brothers were searching for their older brother.

“Túrëo? Túrëo, where are you?” the middle brother Vórimo called, knowing that the firstborn of the brothers should be here. The third brother, Almo, tried to not slip in the snow because of the heavy packing he was carrying.

“Really, ammë Calcanis should actually try and carry these to the cave herself! This is not Tirion where we can ask servants to bring them to the vineyard which we once owned; here we have to fix things on our own…” Almo complained out loudly, not because of the task of carrying the packing with food that he had on his back, but over that he and his two older brothers had been forced to bring home extra food in this kind of weather when it was winter. The reason to why they had been sent out on this task? Finding out that their food supply for the winter had already fallen very seriously when it was supposed to last though all of the winter months and a bit into the spring when nature offered more food again. And they knew why it was lesser food than it should be.  

“Ammë truly needs to stop overfeeding Finyo the food portions that rightfully should have been ours. Yes, he is the youngest of us four, but he is not a baby anymore and should be working for the food he eats…”

Almo took a look on his older brother, already knowing that Vórimo was thinner than he should have been. It was the same with both Túrëo and himself. They were all slender by body shape, but the uneven food distribution between the four brothers over the years since they had been banished from Tirion had not been good for the oldest three.

 

“Look, there our brother is!”

Indeed Túrëo was standing there at the place where he tended to go when he needed to be alone, but he was not alone. He was talking to someone, who was not another member of the group of banished Elves that was under control of Calcanis' iron fist.

“Qucha!”

Almo immediately became happier at the sight of his secret sweetheart, an young Avarin woman from the Mountain clan that only the two brothers knew about. Qucha smiled warmly at seeing them.

“Hello there. Things well with you?” she asked with a friendly smile as she hugged Almo. Then, at feeling how thin Almo was under his clothing, she let go of him for a better look. She also frowned at seeing Vórimo spotting a black eye that was unlikely to have been caused by one of his present brothers, as neither one of the three was violent or quick to anger in nature.

“Your mother again?” was all she asked, getting three rather hesitant nods in answer as neither one of the three brothers saw her in the eyes. Queha sighed in worry; she had long suspected that her Noldorin admirer and his two older brothers were seriously neglected, perhaps even openly abused from the injuries they could wear at times, by their mother in favour for their youngest brother.

“I have said it before, and I will say it again; _you can't let this go on._ The offer of coming and live in the Mountain clan still stands…for the same of your own lives, _please_ leave your mother and youngest brother to deal with things themselves. They are not worth any of this, you can not let them control your lives like this.”

Túrëo tried to keep himself under control, but he failed to hide the terror in his voice as he whispered:

“ _We can't_ …if…if we leave her and our brother…atar… our atar will be angry…”

Even if he had been dead for 78 years thanks to his crime of trying to kill the House of Fëanor by poisoning them, it was clear that Nárion still had a massive presence in his three oldest sons' mind. They still feared their father, and many times had the feeling that he would show up behind them with fury in his cold eyes and start screaming at them of what shame they were for his family and how useless they were as his sons.

“Túrëo…”

Qucha placed a hand carefully on his arm, holding to help her eventual law-brother to calm down before the memories got full power over him. It seemed to help a little, for he relaxed slightly at the touch.

“I am sorry, Qucha…we have all tried to leave over the years, but…I know, it is such a weak excuse when _he_ is not even here anymore…” whispered Almo as he hugged her, trying desperately not to start crying. But she understood. They were no cowards, they were simply so terrified of their father that they still acted as if he had been alive. Sometimes, no matter how long time that passed, that kind of fear never passed unless something really big changed their lives. Her own parents were two Avarin elves who once had been enslaved in Angband, so she could see the signs.

“I am sorry that I can not help much, either. But even if is just a little, I want to help you three until you find the courage to finally leave your mother and spoiled brat to a youngest brother.”

To show her promise, she kissed Almo on the lips instead of the cheek as they normally did. The brothers allowed the youngest some few moments of bliss over the kiss, before Túrëo had to pull him along as he said:

“I am sorry, but we have to leave now before she starts building up stream to give us a telling-off for being late. Come on, lover boy.”

Vórimo waved good-bye to her, before Qucha vanished along a small road like a swift-footed mountain goat.

“You do right in keeping your relationship with her a secret from our ammë, Almo. She would be insane with anger at the mere thought of an Avarin law-daughter.” said Túrëo in an apologetic tone to his second youngest brother, as if he wanted to apologize for the way their mother behaved.

“And yet she insists on trying to marry off our spoiled brat to little brother to princess Cúwen of princess Nelyafinwë's line, who has an Avarin father! Sure, lord Rog might be a hero from the First Age and it did not matter if he was an Avarin Elf back in the Years of the Trees, but that still does not excuse the double-standard our ammë is doing! Why is she so blind to how limited we are to possible marriages nowadays, thanks to our idiotic father's selfish attempt to kill the Noldorin crown prince and his family by poison, all because of his old resentment for not becoming the husband of princess Nelyafinwë back in the Years of the Trees?! Personally, I find it very difficult to blame the princess for wanting another husband, especially when we all three knows too well how our father was in personality….” Almo snorted in displeasure, feeling angry at their mother.     

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, far away in the south, the Sand clan was at their winter camp. Similarly to Tirion, there was a feast going on. But it was not a coming-of-age event, oh no, it was the celebration of Sauron's defeat on this date back in the Third Age year 3019.

“In honor of those who helped to defeat the Fallen Maia once for all; Cheers!” called Osiris as he raised a wine-filled goblet.

“ _CHEERS!!_ ”

After all, music was starting to be played as many couple danced. There was laughter and talk in the air, a truly warm happiness felt among those who once had suffered by Sauron's cruelty back in Angband during the First Age. But there was one among them who was not feeling the mood for this. She carefully sneaked away between the tents when no one saw her, to be alone for a while, away from the fest. Out of a habit that had been forced into her over the years, she went loose on a pile of dirty laundry that she would wash clean. As she pushed away a loose hair curl from her face, the reddish-blonde She-elf almost screamed in anger:  

“How could I have been so damn **_STUPID_ ** ten years ago!?”

Similar to Saira and the others who was the focus in Tirion, this was a young She-elf of high noble birth who could have been among them right now on the debutante ball. But she was not, and the reason why? A careless act made without really thinking ahead and being totally blinded by jealousy and greed had ended up destroying her life. Long gone was the days filled with her parents' almost pleading suggestions to slow down in her actions before she messed up for herself, the boring studies in how to be a proper wife and host when you had been wed, the boldness of “adding” a couple of things that would reveal more skin in everyday clothing under the moral guardian's eyes, the buying of the latest fashion and asking the dressmaker to send the bill to her father so he would pay for it, the weekly tea parties with her friends, and the dreams of possibly marrying into royalty.  

 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!!”

Once she had been stranded here in the Sand clan after the punishment of being banished for life from Valmar and the public humiliation by the Wood clan, Vanë had been forced to grow up faster than she ever had done in her early life. Not only was her days filled with work and social ostracism, she had gotten a mental bucket of cold water thrown on her in terms of behaviour. In Valmar, she had never really been thinking of how her superiority, lack of regards against others and actions against people for being of a lesser social background could lead to. Now, she had to do the same work as the servants in her old home once had done if she wanted her daily food, and found herself hopelessly overpowered in not knowing anything about how to do housework at all.

“No wonder that fewer and fewer Noldorin and Telerin nobles want to marry a Vanyarin high-born girl those days, when they see far more interesting ladies to marry among the Avari Clans and the Sindar…”

Vanë had also opened her eyes to how the Vanyarin Elves were truly seen by the other groups of Elves who had never made the Great Journey to Valinor in the Years of the Trees; far too excessive pious, overbearing, and unpleasantly too eager to quickly point out to the Avarin Elves that they were “not pious enough” and too uncivilized to even be seen as civilized by the most self-righteous Vanyarin Elves. In response to that narrow-minded view, the Avarin Elves freely welcomed the Noldor, Teleri and Sindar into the six Clans by marriage while any Vanyarin Elves in the same situation found themselves much more distrusted.

“Oh, if I only could beat my past self up like princess Maeglin did, I would gladly join her!”

Vanë gasped for breath as she finally was done in beating the dirt out of the laundry. It was hard work, and nowadays she was rather ashamed of how weak she had been in her body during her first 90 years of life because of how pampered she had been. She pushed away the hair curl from her face again with a tired sigh; she was forbidden to grow her hair past the shoulders, and the brand on the right side of her face told anyone in the Avarin clans that she was a sexual assaulter. The true punishment for her was that she was seen as an undesirable bride by Avarin standards thanks to her actions against Rûsa nearly ten years ago, and would be unable to marry anyone unless he wore the brand on his face for the same or a similar crime. In short: ether marrying the only kind of Avarin Elf that would be allowed to take her as his bride, or having to face an eternity of loneliness while watching others fall in love and marry. And given how rare it was for any Avari Elf to actually commit a crime because of how they were intimidated from doing such things because of horror stories about how punishments were done in Angband, it looked like her current marriage chances was equal to zero.  

“No wonder why my parents disowned me after I had been banished...how can they even be able to face one another in shame over having a such selfish daughter like me, when I acted like a true fool and did something such horrible like that towards someone...a prince of the Noldor, no less! Why did I not see the dangers in trying to force him into marriage...but I was the foolish one in not wanting to wait until that he had came of age...”

Vanë tried her best to not start crying in anger on herself. She had made this bed herself ten years ago and now she had to lay in it.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Meanwhile, Rûsa and Maeglin were enjoying a quick moment of privacy inside the royal palace of Tirion. Nothing special, really, outside a few kisses and hugs as a couple.

“I can't stop enjoying to see how you react at being kissed like that,” Maeglin laughed softly as he blushed slightly at feeling her breathing in his neck. Rûsa drew a sharp breath and shut his eyes for a moment when she did it again. Because of his past life in Angband, he was actually somewhat afraid to show a behaviour that could misread as sexual implications towards others, especially towards She-elves. Maeglin had helped him over the past ten years since they had agreed to a secret courtship until that he came to age, but they had to take it slowly with one step by step. After all, it would not go to cause anything that might discourage the other one from having a real relationship in the future.

“Just you wait, and you will soon be given the same taste...ai!”

Rûsa tried his best to not react too much on it, as he did not want to risk drawing attention to them by being too loud.

“Brother! Older brother, where are you?”

Their private fun was quickly cut short at the sound of his younger siblings, calling for him.

“Sorry, looks like I have to keep a eye on them before they end up in some sort of trouble and the servants will be angry.”

“And we will have our whole lives ahead of us if we wed. There is no need to have offspring directly after the marriage when we are immortal, even if we Eldar normally have children when we are young.”

“Try telling that to my ammë, firstborn uncle and Celebrimbor,” Rûsa chuckled in memory of how things really was in his maternal family when it came to the second generation's ages at having children. He did not mind the possibility of being a father to his own set of Elflings in the future, but he wanted to enjoy a couple of years in marriage bliss with only his wife before that. Children were wonderful, but sometimes it could be nice to have a chosen time period between the wedding and the birth of the fist child.  

“Hurry before the kids get away,” Maeglin laughed and gently pushed him towards the door. Rûsa gave her an honest smile of pure joy before leaving the room to find the troublemakers.     


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: I imagine the Avari Mountain clan to be like the Inca people in pre-Columbian America. The name Qucha comes from Mama Qucha ("sea mother") the sea and fish goddess, protectress of sailors and fishermen in Inca mythology. And yes, Vanë has been forced to grow up, making her see things very differently than what she did ten years earlier.


	15. Friendly games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beleg wants to prank some of his friends, and has a unusual day of doing that

Because of how things were between the different branches of Finwë's great family, it was rather quiet under the five years which followed Saira's Coming-of-age ceremony. Sure, they did meet on family dinners and such every year with a few months-in-between, but otherwise they mostly left each other alone for the sake of having peace in the family. Things might be better between them, but there were still many hot-blooded personalities and the old habits of getting into fights were not worth much after all the events in the First Age.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As it was right now, Finwë had requested his firstborn and his family to come along to Alqualondë for a offical visit. Thingol and some of his court turned out to be on a visit there as well.

“Not to sound like I want to be somewhere else, but was it really needed for _all_ of us to come along?” asked Rûsa while braiding Cúwen's orange-red locks into one braid. Beleg, who finished tying the arrows into small bags filled with dry paint powder, answered:

“Well, I can not answer for the Noldorin High King, I just got an order to keep you youngsters out of the way for a while.”  

As he spoke, Beleg checked in case it was something left in the bucket and accidently got some powder on his face. The sight of him with a blue-coloured face made Frëja giggle because of how silly he looked.

“Targets chosen? Remember, the Kings are a no-no. And you are welcome to blame me if you get caught, seeing that it _was_ my idea from the start,” Beleg said while getting the colour out of his face with a handkerchief.

“Yes, sir.”

Beleg had seen that the five youngest members in the House of Fëanor were bored when they were not allowed to spend time with their families because of how things tended to be at a offical visit. And since he also had been in a mood to prank some of his friends in the disguise of an archery lesson, he had offered his help to them.

“Ready...set…”

Unaware of what would happen, Daeron just passed by while having a loud disagreement with Mablung over his latest music.

“You can not keep going on and sing about princess Luthien forever, it was getting old already a few years after your rebirth…”

“It is my way to remember her!”

“ _GO!!_ ” commanded Beleg and hurried out of the way to not become a target himself. Rûsa immediately took the chance and shot a arrow at Daeron, making the musician fall forwards to the ground face first as he got a red mark on his back after the arrow.

“What...oh!”

Mablung got the back of his hair filled with green colour powder when Lindë got a surprise hit on him. Looking over his shoulder, just in time for Yuë to paint his face blue as the youngest Elfling ran past Mablung with Frëja, he saw Beleg laughing hard at a safe distance away.

“Do not tell me that you dragged the young royals into this, Beleg!”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Since they were the youngest, and also because of Yuë's frail health, Yuë and Frëja had been given slingshots instead of small bows. While there was small bows for archery in child size, the slingshots allowed the duo to shot and hit a target faster.

“Do you see anyone?”

Being small in growth thanks their age, they could hide in places where Rûsa would be spotted right away thanks to his height. Like now, in bushes below a marble staircase where people often came and went.

_A familiar trio right over there._

Indeed it was. The middle sons of Fëanor to be precise. Giving each other a questioned look, they nodded in agreement.

“Hi, uncles!” called Frëja out aloud, using the familiy titles, to catch their attention towards the bushes.  

“Frëja?”

“Ai!”

Caught by surprise as they were, Curufin and Celegorm got a faceful of white and blue colour each. While Caranthir tried to duck as he stormed over to the bushes to catch the duo, Cúwen saved them by hitting him in the back of his head, leaving a purple mark as result.

“Not you too, Cúwen!”

The angry swearing from the three Fëanorians caught the attention of Dior and his twin sons.

“Ada!” one of the silver-haired twins called as they ducked for an incoming arrow. Dior, however, had been standing with his back towards them and beliving that they were calling him, looked up.

“What, boys?”

That mistake cost him a hit straight on the jaw from Yuë, and getting knocked over on his back into the bushes behind him.

“We tried to warn you, Ada!”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Unaware of the chaos that the young generation was making, the other adults had taken a break and enjoying some tea time.

“I wonder what Beleg has planned to do with the children?” Olwë wondered.

“Knowing him, likely some suggestions in how to use a bow outside for archery,” answered Thingol as he raised his tea cup to his lips. Only to suddenly have the cup knocked out of his hand by a ball with painting powder, which left a blue mustache on his face in it's way.

“What on…”

In the next moment, Saeros showed up in a great hurry to try and get away from someone, his green robes having several markings of dry powder in purple, white and blue.

“I'm being chased, so please excuse me if I disturb you all, my lords and ladies!”

A ball filled with painting powder quickly followed after him. nearly hitting Maglor. On the other hand, Thranduil remained perfectly calm and easily ducked for every attempt to hit him as he drank some wine. Having the archery-skilled Legolas as son had trained his battle senses in similar pranks once and also gave him a sense in how to act in a situation like this.

“Where are those balls coming from...”

A ball that struck him right on the jaw stopped Celebrimbor from coming closer. It did not hurt, but it was still a powerful hit.

“Sorry about that, Atto!” called Frëja as apology while hurrying away from where she had been hiding. Like a ghost in his light blue clothes, Yuë followed after her as he did not held a wish to be captured by the adults yet.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As Rûsa took the change to sneak out from the palace, he happened to run straight into someone.

“Ah!”

Because of his height and weight from his rather impressive muscle mass, Rûsa ended up knocking the other Elf to the ground. Since it was not uncommon that it happened when he was in a hurry, Rûsa quickly got back up on his feet:

“Goodness, not again! Forgive me, I did not see where I was going…”

“My fault too, I was looking for where my brothers are…ah!?”

The brunette Elf seemed to be shocked at seeing who it was that had knocked him over. While it was not uncommon for people to sometimes get startled by Rûsa for different reasons, maninly his height and powerful charisma, this was the first time he had seen that amount of pure terror in someone's eyes. For a moment, Rûsa first believed that the _ner_ might be a former victim from his days as the Warg Rider - after all, it was hard to keep count on faces in battle when you fights to survive - but then he saw something in the other Elf's face that seemed familiar in another way…

“Túrëo! Almo! We have to leave Alqualondë right away! The House of Fëanor is here!”

The brunette Elf hurried away, hiding his face with the hood he was wearing as if he was afraid of being recognized by someone. The clothes also wore signs of once having been very elegant and nice-looking clothes of different colours, but now was little else than mattered and washed-out rags which had been patched up together into one single clothing. From what the Avarin Clans had said, it was not a uncommon look among the Elves who had been exiled for some reason.

“Those names sounds familiar...but where did I hear them?”  

Rûsa was pretty sure that he had heard the names once when he was rather young, very likely around the time he first had came to Tirion. Because of that his family rarely was in Tirion, he tended to forget names on different nobles and such, so it was not unusual for him to need a small reminder before a new visit to the Noldorin capital.

“ _As if the political enemies to our House needs another excuse to call me uneducated…_ ” Rûsa thought for himself as Vórimo hurried away, vanishing into the crowd. His attention was quickly brought back to the present by Beleg calling:

“Two minutes left, kids!”

Understanding that he needed to hurry back, Rûsa turned around.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_Rûsa was once again busy with exploring the palace. This was going to be their last night in Tirion, as both his maternal grandfather and ammë had recovered from the attempted posioning. Fëanor had  also given secret orders to his family to get ready to leave Tirion in the middle of the night, mix in with the Wood clan and follow with them as they left at dawn._

_“Since we do not know when we will be back here, I better try and look around as much as I can…”_

_Suddenly, just as he was checking out a family tapestry of Finwë with both his wives and five children on each side of him, Rûsa heard running steps come towards him._

_“Saira…?!”_

_In the next moment, Rûsa was nearly pushed into the wall by someone. It was one of the male Elflings that had bullied him and Saira a few days earlier._

_“You damned Kinslayer spawn! Thanks to you, my atto's reputation as the finest winegrower around here is ruined!!”_

_Right, he remembered overhearing the adults talking about that that Nárion_ ' _s family most likely would be banished as result of his crime._

_“Stop that, Finyo! You will only get us in more trouble with the royal family of you beats up the prince!”_

_An adult ner took a hold of the other Elfling before a real fist-fight happened and did his best to not let him get loose._

_“Let go of me, Túrëo! I want atto Nárion back! And ammë says that it is the fault of the House of Fëanor that he was arrested!!”_

_“Stop throwing a temper tantrum as if you were a toddler, little brother, you will only make someome of the palace servants come here and see us with your shouting! We are not supposed to be here...!”_

_It was with great struggle that the older brother hurried away with his younger brother in his arms. Muttering quietly for him that the Elfling would have been seriously punished if he ever had shown that kind of behaviour in Angband, Rûsa hurried away to find someone of his family._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Beleg was holding up a small hourglass in one hand, loudly calling out the time left so they could hear him from where they were. Lindë and Cúwen had already gotten back, standing beside him.

“You little...get back here, Frëja!”

Several loud colourful words from some open corridor windows, letting in fresh winds from the sea, on the second floor revealed that Frëja currently was being chased by Celebrimbor who was not too happy over what she had done and promising her that she indeed would have a sore butt once he was finished in spanking her as punishment.

“No thanks, Atya!”

Frëja was perhaps more stocky and heavier in weight than a normal Elfling thanks to being an Half-Dwarf, or Dwelf as Fëanor had insisted on calling her when he overheard someone call his great-granddaughter a half-breed and which had became a term even within the rest of the family with time, but she had inherited some of the Elves's fast movements and speed.

“The longer you tries to avoid my punishment, the sooner you will get it when I gets my hands on you!” growled Celebrimbor when his daughter used the height difference between them to escape from him.

 

On the other hand, Yuë had collapsed at the top of another marble staircase thanks to a coughing fit, gasping for breath as he tried to move. If he was caught by the adults, he did not doubt that it would be a serious scolding from them.

_I do not want to be caught…_

Then, just as Yuë thought that he would cause the end of the game thanks to his frail health, Rûsa appeared. Running in high speed, he easily picked up his younger half-brother in his arms without much trouble.

“Come on, time to stop the fun for a while...aha!”

Saeros, in a faint belief that he had managed to escape from being hit with more paint balls, had shown up. Knowing that Yuë would not have the strength for it yet, Rûsa tossed the last of the blue balls on Saeros and hit him straight in the forehead.

“Ha, a lucky shot...ah!”

However, in his hurry to pick up Yuë and trying to return to Beleg before the time was out, Rûsa did not really watch where he was going and thus, slipped on a wet spot of grass that was still damp after the previous night's rain.

“Boys, what on Arda are Beleg doing in that training he offered you?” called Maedhros in exactly the same moment as her two sons ended up landing into a small garden pool.

_SPLASH!!_

“And time is out!” said Beleg when he heard the brothers fall into the pool. Lucky, Rûsa was quick to step out of the pool, still carrying Yuë in his arms.

“I had planned for a bath later, although I did plan it to happen in the sea at the beach…” commented Rûsa while putting down his half-brother on the grass and squeezed water out of his hair. Nodding in silent agreement to what his older brother said, Yuë pulled off his wet tunic as it was clinging to his small body. Rûsa mirrored that with his own tunic, when they heard a angry shout:

“ _BELEG!! ARE YOU SECRETLY WISHING TO SPEND ANOTHER YEAR AMONG THE AVARIN CLANS!?!_ ”

It was Thingol, sounding like he really was not pleased as he realized who had set up the painting prank.

“Who of you are in for a bath at the beach while I fix this?” suggested Beleg as Frëja showed up, just narrowing avoiding to get caught by her father. Without a word, Rûsa picked up Yuë and Frëja in his arms, hurrying away from the garden with Cúwen and Lindë straight on his heels.

“See you later, mister Beleg!” said Frëja, doing her best to wave in good-bye to him before they got too far away. Similar farewell-greetings were heard from Rûsa, Cúwen and Lindë was heard too.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Anyone who has seen the movie Swan princess likely remembers the “practice, practice, practice” scene where the band of musicians are dressed as animals and acting as targets XD. Atya is another form of Atar and means “daddy” in Quenya. And who can not imagine Fëanor, who is so skilled in languages, invent a term for a child born between a Elf and a Dwarf?


	16. Step by step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a important exam in Tirion, and not everyone can get high points

Year 109 of the Fourth Age. It was late summer, and in Tirion something big was happening for all of those Elves would come of age sometime during the year to the next summer; namely a big exam of their school education. Especially for these who was from high-standing noble families, a bad exam result would only shame them in front of their family. Also, a good education was an extra bonus in future marriages, since wives often were responsible for household finances.

“Not good...I know that master Rumil is a skilled tutor, but I am worried that I will cause him unneeded trouble when the other tutors sees the difference between my exam results and the other students…!” Rûsa thought to himself as he found himself stuck in a question that Rumil rarely had brought up during their lessons, mostly because of that Rûsa had been reminded about how he and Maedhros had died in the First Age when the subject came up. The question?

_Provide a detailed description of how the War of Wrath ended_

Another problem that had been spotted by Rumil's sharp eyes over the years was that the life-long illiteracy from Rûsa's first life had given him a mild case of dyslexia.

“No doubt that they will compare my results with the rest of the family...oh well, not my problem! Ammë told me to make the best of my ability and not be bothered with the results if they happen to be low, as long as I do not fail entirely on this exam!”

It was the last thing he could do, and if he really was honest, so did Rûsa seriously wish to finally put a end on the unpleasant rumours that he had not been given any sort of schooling at all by his family. He could accept that he was not the best of students no matter how much he studied, the simple truth was that Rûsa was more of the type to learn with his body, or by doing, which didn't serve him very well during the mostly theoretical schooling.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_“But why did you not remain the High Queen, ammë?” Rûsa wondered in confusion. He was currently doing some of his homework, and had just came to a page in the history book which described how his mother had abdicated as High Queen in favor of her uncle. As he did not really understand what it meant, he had went to his mother to ask her._

_“Well…”_

_Maedhros was unsure how to explain this. Because he had lived in Angband, she seriously doubted that he would understand the political reasons behind that event. In the end, she chose to tell him one of the more personal reasons._

_“As the High Queen of the Noldor, one of my duties would have been to marry a suitable husband and having heirs. However, with what happened right after your birth where you were taken from me, my body…”_

_She went quiet for a moment, the old pain surfacing for a moment._

_“You could not have more children?”_

_Rûsa had overheard slave healers whisper about that, how Angband was not suitable at all for any of the female slaves who was pregnant. The lack of proper food, getting pregnant by force far too often with very little rest between a birth and a new pregnancy, the lack of care and too heavy work throughout the pregnancy often resulted in miscarriages. If not a miscarriage, then either stillbirths or the loss of both mother and child during the birth. Looking at his birth from that view, they both had been extremtly lucky to survive._

_“...yes…”_

_Maedhros held back her tears as she hugged her son. A bit hesitant at first, Rûsa returned the hug. Even ten years after his rebirth, he could still be doubtful if it really was alright to do body contact like this._

_“If I had found a way to escape from Angband straight under the noses of the two Dark Lords while I still carried you early in the pregnancy, I would gladly have taken it. Anything to ensure that you would not have been forced to live the horrible life as a slave, forced to become the Warg Rider…you would have been born as the Crown prince of the Noldor, despite the way you had been conceived in...and I would have fought with tooth and nail to ensure that your father Taurion would have been honored as my consort, no matter the way we had you and that he was an Avarin Elf...”_

_He did not know why, but for some reason, her words warmed Rûsa's heart. He thirsted so deeply for even the smallest hint of love and care, like a man without water in a dry desert._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

True enough once the last part of the exam were done, the other loremasters was not looking too kindly at the total grade that Rûsa had earned. If Fëanor at the same age had managed to get a full one hundred points, so had Rûsa ended up with a notably lower result on forty-five.

“How on Arda can a descendant of that royal genius get a result like _this_!?”

“Not only that, look at his hand-writing. No doubt that he does his best in writing, but it is just on the border of readable if you look at the neat hand-writing that the rest of his maternal family has…”

To point that out, Rûsa's written exam was laid down beside a couple of others that once had been made by Fëanor and his seven children way back in the Years of the Trees. It was true that Rûsa's hand writing was not the best, but it actualy was not unreadable as it once had been when Rumil first had started to tutor him so long ago.

“Do not take this personally now, Rumil,” said one of the other tutors placatingly, “seeing that Prince Russafinwë is one of your most current students alongside his younger siblings in Formenos, but...you seem to have lost some of your old edge when it comes to being a private tutor? Because the prince does not seem to have inherited the brains of his family….”

Rumil only raised a eyebrow, before he said in a low, dangerous voice:

“ _Are you saying that I am getting too old for my role as a loremaster?_ ”

For being one of the first generation born in Cuiviénen after the Awakening of the Elves and a civilian with very little skills of use in a real battle Rumil was somewhat feared for his sharp tongue and a champion when it came to a battle of words. He also tended to be seriously pissed off whatever an idiotic fool dared to say straight to his face that he had started to get soft in his old age.

“N-no, sir....”

Sighing, Rumil took a look on Rûsa's written exam. He knew about his former identity as the Warg Rider; after all it was somewhat hard to not pick up clues when they had almost daily lessons for so many years of Rûsa's new childhood and he also had ended up being a very important friend for the very unsual firstborn son of Maedhros despite belonging to the same generation as his great-grandfather Finwë.

“I do not see anything wrong in this. At least he did not end up with ten points, like a certain grandson to one of you…”

The loremaster in question blushed a ugly red colour in his face; it was an open secret that he had wished for his oldest grandson to become a loremaster as himself and was deeply disappointed in the youngster's lack of success at school despite desperate attempts to fix that by private lessons.

“And before you start thinking that his written exams are proof of all his skills...take a look at this,” suggested Rumil and held up several other papers. They were quickly revealed to be Rûsa's end exams in other areas.

“W…what?” gasped one of the other tutors in shock at seeing all the listed hundred points or close to an hundred points on the papers. To say that it was a huge surprise for them to see these results, which was a huge contrast to his written exams, was an large underestimation. In fact, when it came to the exams in outdoor activities, Rûsa had shown himself to be among the top five students. All of the exams that contained testing for combat and warfare held Rûsa as the top student.

“Never judge a book by its covers, my dear friends. It is the same here, do not judge someone from their reading and writing skills alone,” Rumil smiled with a false tone of innocence to them, while looking like a cat who just had been given a huge bowl of cream.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, Rûsa was busy with something else. Once he had finished the last written exam, he had nearly bolted out from the room in happiness that it had been the last one.

“They have the nerve of saying that you “did not” inherit great-uncle Fëanor's genius brain with a result of “only” foty-five points!? Seriously, when one thinks of that you actually suffered from life-long illiteracy back in Angband, forty-five points on the written exams should really count as a full hundred points in your case!” said Maeglin in mild disapproval, from where she sat on his thighs to give him a back massage. They were in her private forge, in a belonging bedroom that she could use if she wanted to stay there overnight. To make the massage work better, he had taken off his robes so his upper body were bare. His hair was still in a long braid.

“I think my whole family will agree on that. I was raised for battle in my first life, not to be something to show up at a royal court...oh…”  

Rûsa held back a pleased moan when she worked on his shoulders and then moved down his spine. Her strength as a female blacksmith came out to use here, as Maeglin used her hands on him.

“Liking what I am doing?”

“Y...yes!”

Rûsa buried his face in the pillow to try and hide how deeply he was blushing. Even after little over nineteen years of secretly courting Maeglin, he was still somewhat afraid of stepping over a forbidden line that he might not know about. After all, the morals in Angband and Aman was as different as day and night. Feeling her kiss the tip on one of his pointed ears, he held on harder to the bed sheet and mentally prayed that she would not notice his attempts to hide how hard a certain part of his body had become from her touch on his back.

“Damn...how could I forget the daily cup of the herb tea thanks to nearly oversleeping this morning?!” Rûsa mentally cursed for himself. By now, Maeglin had noticed that he still was somewhat tense despite the back massage she had given him.

“Rûsa? Would you like me to massage you on the chest as well?”

He dared to look up at her out of the corner of his eye. There was no use in hiding it any longer, and he was only too grateful over that he still had his pants on. Not the most comfortable thing, but better than letting her see his current problem directly. Slowly, Rûsa turned over under her so Maeglin faced him instead. As he did so, he had to raise one leg a bit to get balance and in that same movement, he happened to accidentally push her forward against his hips.

“Ah!”

Now both of them blushed. Maeglin from feeling where she had landed and Rûsa over that she had found what he had been trying to hide. Too embarrassed to even say something first, Rûsa looked away from her, using his hands to hide his blushing face which now was almost the same dark red colour as his hair.

“I nearly overslept this morning and did not have time to prepare and drink the herb tea if I wanted to arrive in time to the last exams…”

A horribly lame excuse, he knew it even before saying it, but it was the truth. Not wanting to see her eyes filled with disgust, because of that would reawaken memories of their first days together in Angband had been, Rûsa closed his own.

“Rûsa.”

A faint, yet tender touch on the left cheek where he had his V-shaped scar. He shuddered for a moment and went stiff as a board, fearing that the touch would reveal itself to become a slap. Even if he knew that Maeglin never would hurt him, some old habits from Angband never really left his mind.

“Rûsa, please look at me. Do not feel ashamed for that, everyone makes mistakes sometimes.”

Maeglin kept her voice calm and low, knowing that Rûsa was very afraid for any possible angered reaction from her right now. To her relief, he did open his eyes and looked at her. Something in his black eyes reminded her about a injured animal which was afraid for being beaten.

“S-sorry....”

“Shhh, it is alright, I am not angry on you.”

She bent down and gave him a chaste kiss on his forehead as he tried so hard to not start crying from relief.

“You can cry if you wish, Rûsa.”

In the end, they did not dare to cross the thin line which otherwise would have made them a married couple. As much as they might have wished to taste on that forbidden fruit, they wanted to spare that moment especially for the wedding night, or at least until that they had revealed their feelings for their families. Also, it would have been a serious pain of explaining everything if Maeglin ended up pregnant before they even had revealed their wish to marry. While they liked the idea of becoming parents in the future, they did not wish to have children right away after the wedding nor needing a very early marriage ceremony because of a child between them.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Much later, when it was late evening, did Rûsa and Maeglin return to the royal palace. They had missed dinner with their big family, but had enjoying a meal on one of her favorite restaurants.

“Tomorrow, I am going to sleep in...no more early mornings because of the exams for a while, thank you! And then I will ride out for the whole day, enjoying freedom...” smiled Rûsa while he stretched on his arms. Maeglin smiled at him, happy that he was back in his normal mood again.

“ _Wuof!_ ”

It was no big surprise that Snowflake showed up around a corner, happy to see her owner, and knocked Rûsa to the floor.

“Oh! Snowflake, down with you, girl!” Rûsa laughed when Snowflake started to lick his face. As he pushed the dog away from his chest, Maeglin was licked in the face as well.

“Brother?”

Cúwen and Yuë showed up, both dressed in their night robes. By this time, they rightfully should have been in bed and sleeping.

_We can't sleep,_ Yuë said in a tiny, yet tired voice by using Ósanwë. With a fond sigh, Rûsa picked them up in his arms.

“Then I believe that a bedtime story is needed as cure for that problem that you two shares at the moment. Maeglin? Would you like to come along?”

“Why not?” she answered with a small smile, bending down to the floor in order to pick up the stuffed rabbit that Yuë had dropped when Rûsa picked him up on his right arm and handed it back to the young albino. Yuë gave her a shy smile in thanks, hugging the rabbit to his chest with one arm while his older hand was holding around Rûsa's neck.

“So, what kind of bedtime story would you two like to hear?” Rûsa asked as they started to walk towards the guest chambers where his siblings had their beds.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: As Rumil points out, it is actually rather stupid to think that everyone in one particular family has to be a genius in some way just because of that one of the family members is one of the most famous Elves in history for being a genius (before things went south, at least). Also, not everyone can fit into a already existing school system, there is and will always be people who need a more adjusted way of schooling. Finally, there is actually boys and men who are terrified for entering a more sexual step in an otherwise stable relationship with someone, especially if they have a history of being victims for abuse in earlier relationships or in childhood.


	17. Lost siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A perfectly normal errand turns out to be the start of a adult nightmare....

Year 110 of the Fourth Age, middle of spring in Formenos.

“This should be enough for us at lunch…”

Rûsa was currently busy in preparing what was needed for lunch for himself and his siblings. Maedhros and Rog was away for a day which they wished to spend alone, having left him in change of Cúwen and Yuë during the day.

“Rûsa? Can we help with something?”

The younger siblings had already set the table for three people at his request, so he took a quick look in the pantry and kitchen shelves to see if anything was missing.

“Hm...we are out of curry spice powder, which is needed for the chicken soup I am making for lunch. Would you two please run over to the spice shop and buy some? It is not like that I do not trust you two in the kitchen, but I would perfer to avoid getting a scolding from our parents over that I did not keep an eye on you.”

It was not that he was scared for getting a scolding from Maedhros or Rog, but Rûsa hated when he messed up and was scolded in a more serious way. During the first years after his rebirth, such scoldings had often resulted in his old behaviour as a slave resurfacing and ended up with him hiding somewhere in the house in pure terror from possibly being seriously punished and the rest of the Fëanorian family in anxiety over his horrified reaction. It had become better over the years as he grew up in this new body, but a tiny part of Rûsa would forever be the mind of a slave.  

“Sure!” answered Cúwen with a smile, showing that she was happy to be able to help with something. Yuë, who peeked out from the living room where he had been reading a book, seemed to agree with his sister by following after her out to the front door.

“Here is enough coin for the curry powder. If there is some over, do not waste them on sweets when you are on the way back home. I have already made some fruit to dessert,” said Rûsa as he handed some copper coins to his sister. Yuë showed that he was carrying a small glass vial with his medicine, in case he got a coughing fit, in a small bag hanging from his belt.

“Good. Now hurry away, you two, so we can get the lunch ready in time.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Their house was not too far away from the main city market on the Main Square in Formenos, and from there, to the shops which sold more rare goods. As it was midday and not many other customers in the spice shop and the young siblings could fix their errand rather quickly.  

“Nice that we can help our older brother! Right, Yuë?” wondered Cúwen, holding a small wooden box with curry spice in one hand.

 _Yes. Although...I have a feeling that he seems to be hiding something from us at times. Sometimes he seems to be lost in his thoughts, and when that happens, his eyes seem to...harden,_ answered Yuë as he looked on her from under the large straw conical hat that he was wearing as protection from the sun. It might seem a little big for him, but it also helped to protect his shoulders along with his light blue robes.

“Harden?” asked Cúwen in surprise as she stopped walking to look on her young brother. She knew that Yuë had a strong spiritual sense, far more than most members in their big family, so it tended to be wise and listen to him when he sensed something unusual.

_Yes. As if our brother's black eyes darken even more than their usual colour. There is...far less warmth in them at those times, and I get the feeling of looking into the depths of a bottomless well. While I can sense that he never would hurt any of us in a such moment, I still...worry that something might happen…_

It was rare for Yuë to worry like that, and while he was not so easily scared, there was no doubt that this must be serious if he acted like this. For a few moments, neither one of the two siblings said anything.

“Maybe our brother is not pleased over something? Like how people acted last summer when his exam result was revealed?”

They both shuddered at the memory. Rûsa himself had been rather indifferent over the exam result, but Maedhros had thrown a rather scary outburst of anger when people once again had accused her of being an irresponsible mother to her firstborn about his schooling. Granted, part of it had been a result of her being in the first two months of her fourth pregnancy and thus was excused for her mood swings, but it still had been a unusal sight of seeing her chase out the more impolite loremasters out of Rog's old house in Tirion with a broom.

_And our six uncles say that our ammë is much more gentle in her temper than back in the First Age?_

“Come on, let’s go home before our brother starts wondering where we are…”

Suddenly, they heard a strange sound coming from a allery. It sounded like a cat in distress.

“What is wrong with that poor cat?”  

The answer was revealed once they looked inside the allery. A small kitten had gotten stuck with a small paw in a snare.

“Aw, your poor thing. Don't worry, we will help you…Yuë, please hold this for me.”

As Cúwen gave him the small box with curry powder and bent down to free the kitten, Yuë looked around. It was odd to not see any adults around, but then again, it was not a market day.

“There, now run off to your own mom, kitty! I am sure that she is worried for you too.”

Cúwen let the kitten run out from the alley. Suddenly, a tall shadow fell over the siblings. It happened so fast, that neither one of them got a chance to scream for help. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in the house belonging to Rog and Maedhros, Rûsa began to lose patience in his waiting for the younger half-siblings would come home.

“But seriously! Where are they?”

Putting away from the cooking pot away from the kitchen fire so it would not boil over when he was not keeping a eye on it, Rûsa went upstairs to his own bed chamber in order to check if he could spot Cúwen and Yuë from the window there. He sighed deeply as he looked out thought the window in his bed chamber to try and caught a glimpse of the two Elflings:

“If they do not show up within five minutes, I am heading out to look for them…”

Cúwen and Yuë knew that both of their parents had died at different times back in the First Age and later got reborn in the beginning of the Second respective the Fourth Age, but they did not yet know that Rûsa had a history there as well. And not that he actually was their half-brother, sharing only their mother as the common parent despite that Cúwen once, in a moment of childish logic when someone had pointed out that Rûsa looked nothing like Rog, had said that “her older brother simply took after their maternal family”, which was not quite a lie given how well-known it was that Rûsa did really look like Maedhros. However, the fact about them being half-siblings was a little too personal to talk about, and Maedhros worried for that they were still not not old enough to be able to really understand Rûsa's massive trauma from his first life in the First Age.

“No, this is enough! I am heading out to search for them.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As Rûsa headed out with Snowflake to search for Cúwen and Yuë, he felt the scent of smoke in the air and heard several Elves shout:

“FIRE!!!”

“ _The northern city stable is on fire!_ ”

This was bad news; if they could not get the fire under control as soon as possible, the fire could spread from the northern city stable to the nearby buildings. Even if most of Formenos was built in stone, there was still wooden houses and similar buildings around.

“Come, Snowflake! The more people who can help, the faster we can put out the fire!”

It turned out to be wise to help. The stable grooms needed all help they could get, in order to ensure that all the horses could be brought out without anyone getting injuried. Thanks to so many being quick to action when they heard the warning about the fire, they managed to save many of the horse owners' saddles and bridles as well before the fire could ruin these.

“Seriously, who or what could have started the fire?! It should not have been any glass inside the hay chambers and the lit candles in the stables lamps is not hot enough to start a fire if they are hung up!” questioned Celegorm in anger, as he tried to calm down a very nervous mare which was heavy pregnant with foal, not a easily task.

“A very good question, uncle,” replied Rûsa from where he kept a eye on a couple of ponies which his siblings often borrowed when the family was out riding.

“Move aside, milords, we needs to get more water over here!”

Finally, the fire was put out. A quarter of the stables had been burned down, but otherwise the building was intact and with enough work, the stable would look whole again after six to eight days of fixing the part that had been burnt down.

 

Once he had helped to check so the fire wuld not start again or that the other three city stables were in risk for being set on fire, Rûsa went to search for Cúwen and Yuë. Much to his confusion and growing worry, he could not find them anywhere in the usual places they normally could be found.

“This is not good, if I do not find them soon…!”

Rûsa was not on the way of a panic attack, but he was getting more and more worried. As the oldest in the sibling trio, it was his task to keep a eye on the much younger half-siblings. Had it been a mistake of him to let them go alone? But this was not the first time they had done a such small errand and they had always returned on time!

“If they are not back home when I comes into the house, I have to tell this to the rest of the family…”

To Rûsa's horror when he entered the house, there was no sign of either Cúwen or Yuë having returned home while he had been out.

“.... _where are they_ ….?!”

Suddenly there was the sound of breaking glass from one of the windows on the upper floor. Snowflake would have hurried upstairs at the sound, had not her owner stopped her with a hand on the collar.  

“Snowflake, stay downstairs.”

Knowing that this day likely was only about to get even worse, Rûsa hurried upstairs to see why the window had been broken.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

It was a rather large stone that had broken the window in his bed chamber. But the strange thing about the stone was that a parchment had been tied to the stone with a hair ribbon. To Rûsa's horror, he recognized the hair ribbon.

“The icy-blue hair ribbon which Cúwen wore in her hair when she and Yuë left for the spice shop!”

Putting on a leather glove in order to not cut himself on the glass pieces, Rûsa bent down to pick up the stone from the floor and removed the parchment. The hand-writing inside were uneven, as if the writer either was unused to write or it had been a rather long time since the last time he or she had been writing something.

_Russafinwë! Your siblings are in our hands. For now, they are still in good shape. We know that you want them back in one piece. Therefore, keep your mouth shut and meet us at the Pelóri Mountains. Come alone. And no great fuss! Any sound of this to the rest of your family and it will be your siblings who pays the price. We will be watching you._

Rûsa went cold inside in pure horror and tried to remain standing up as he realized that the kidnappers must have been watching his family for some days, or it would have been much more difficult to kidnap Cúwen and Yuë. And on the day when neither Maedhros or Rog was home!

“No...not Cúwen and Yuë! This…”

A small light from the sun outside hit the mirror, letting Rûsa see just how pale he had gone in terror over that his half-siblings were in danger, all because of that he had let them out of his sight.

“For the Valar's sake, I have to find a way to reveal this to my family without the kidnappers seeing it…”

Rûsa drew a deep breath and forced down the small wave of panic from his mind as he sat down on the bed, the letter still in his hands. Getting a panic attack would not help in this situation, he needed to think logically about this. First of all, the rest of the House of Fëanor had to learn about this, then possibly the rest of the Noldorin royal family and no doubt the Avarin clans, especially the Metal clan and the Mountain clan which had their permanent clan camps in the Pelóri Mountains. Looking at the map which had been with the letter, Rûsa understood what he must do.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Several hours passed. So far, it showed no signs on that something was wrong inside the house which was owned by Maedhros and Rog, outside that Rûsa had drawn the curtains together after setting up a small note to any bypassers behind the broken glass that the window in his bed chamber had been broken after a small accident from playing a bit too wild with his siblings.

“He has not left the house since finding the letter…”

“Sh, look! He is back in the kitchen!”

It was impossible to miss Rûsa by his height and dark red hair. But thanks to the kitchen window being rather small, it was hard to get a good look on what he was doing.

“Not good, we can not see him clearly…?!”

“ _FOUND THEM!!_ ”

Suddenly there was a movement behind them, and Fëanor's twin sons were upon the two suspicious Elves in the allery. It did not take long for Amrod and Amras to knock the other two Elves unconscious, after all, what was the fun of defeating much older and taller siblings back in childhood if you did not team up against them to compromise your own lack of height?

“Rûsa, hurry up and get out of the house! Atar and amil has a horse ready for you!” called Celegorm from a house roof where he had been standing guard in case his help was needed, having seen what his younger twin brothers were doing.

“Thank the Valar that Haru Fëanor left some of his Palantíri behind in Aman when you left for Middle-earth after the Darkening and that he insisted on that you would have one in the houses you would have as your own!” Rûsa said to his three uncles as he rushed out of the house, fully dressed in his travel clothing and Snowflake right on his heels.

“Indeed!” agreed Celegorm while the twins bound the hands and feets on the two unconscious spies, they would make those two talk about why Cúwen and Yuë had been kidnapped later once they woke up again.

“By now, the message birds should be on the way towards Tirion and the camps for the Avarin clans about what has happened here. You focus on getting to the Pelóri Mountains, we will tell your ammë and Rog what has happened when they come back to Formenos! The most important right now is to get Cúwen and Yuë back safely without any harm,” ordered Fëanor as he helped his second oldest grandson to mount his horse. Nodding in understanding, Rûsa wasted no time in riding out from Formenos towards the Pelóri Mountains where the kidnappers would wait on him. He had already lost enough time in trying to tell his family what had happened without the spies spotting what he was doing.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: According to Tolkiengateway and other Tolkien wikis, the palantíri were made by Fëanor in the Years of the Trees before the Darkening. He created many palantíri, but the exact number he made is not known, so logically, there could be some palantíri which was left behind in Aman when Fëanor led his and Fingolfin's followers into exile in Middle-earth.


	18. A trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rûsa tries to find his kidnapped siblings, only to be lead into a trap

Rûsa looked around in unease, then looked on the map again to check if he really had come to the right place in the Pelóri Mountains where the kidnappers wanted him to arrive at.

“Of all the places to come to, they had to choose this spot?!”

It was impossible to enter there by riding, and the massive rocks meant that he had to climb up a bit in order to get to the meeting spot. It would also be impossible to bring Snowflake along. Sighing in light defeat as he understood that it was no other way, Rûsa dismounted and allowed the horse to be free from his light packing.

“Stay here, Snowflake, I do not want you to slip on those rocks.”

It had rained earlier, making it even more difficult to climb up for him. And if Snowflake would try to follow after him, it would only end up with her getting seriously injured and that was something that Rûsa did not wish to happen. The large white-greyish dog whined in worry as her owner started to climb up on the rocks.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

After a long time, mostly because of how slippery the rocks were after the rain Rûsa managed to get up and over the rocks to the mountain road the map told him to get at.

“They better be around here, for I do not want to waste any more time in order to get my siblings back!”

He had been told a lot over the years that he was somewhat overprotective of Cúwen and Yuë, but Rûsa could not really help it, not with the way he had grown up himself back in the First Age. The memories of the horrors in Angband was still enough to give both him and Maedhros terrible nightmares and wake up screaming in the middle of night at times.

“All right, lets see if they are here somewhere…”

Rûsa really was not feeling comfortable at the moment; not just because of worry for his siblings in the hands of the kidnappers, but also thanks to the surroundings bringing up memories of Angband's mountain walls. He could almost feel the dry air as he breathed, and despite wearing his leather boots he could mentally feel the hard and stony ground which had so often torn up wounds on unprotected feet. The weight of heavy chains around his wrists and ankles, along with the choking hold of a slave collar around his throat…

“ _No! Not that, do not think of that! Focus on the task ahead!_ ” Rûsa scolded himself, mentally cursing how fate had been back in the First Age and wished once more that Maedhros had found a way to escape from Angband long before his birth so he could have helped his maternal relatives in the war against Morgoth.

“ ** _BROTHER!!_ ** ”

Suddenly there was a scream echoing among the cliffs, a male voice on the hint to panic. Was it someone else here who had gotten in trouble, or one of the kidnappers? Hopefully not, even if they had kidnapped Cúwen and Yuë, it was too barbaric to wish deadly harm on them, that much was something that his family had been forced to almost hammer into his mind over the years as they fought to break some of his worst habits from Angband.

“Is anyone here!?”

That turned out to be a mistake. A arrow flew past his ear and Rûsa spun around, holding his two daggers ready for a possible attack from where the arrow had came from. On the other hand, he was able to spot another Elf up on a cliff, clearly busy with pulling someone else back on the cliff as the second Elf seemed to have stepped on a loose part of the cliff in a extremely rare moment of Elvish carelessness.

“You good-for-nothing idiots, now he is on his guard thanks to you two!”

Mentally Rûsa grimaced at hearing the angry voice, that scolding surely was a bit unnecessarily harsh for a small mistake that could have ended up in a very serious, perhaps even deadly, injury? But he got no idea to think more of that, for now Rûsa had to duck and avoid arrows which attacked him from everywhere.

“Do not let him escape!”

Over the years as he had grown up in his new body, Rûsa had regained his old strength and flexibility which once had saved his life so many times during battle or duels in the First Age. Now, they came to his help once more. If there was one thing he was able to do well without needing to slip into his personality as the Warg Rider, so was it to defend himself in battle.

“Watch out for his throwing daggers!”

The kidnappers had not expected Rûsa to have such skills. Sure, it was well-known that Formenos had military training as a result after so many years that the House of Fëanor had sent in war against Morgoth back in the First Age, but thanks to being exiles for many years, it was impossible for them to have known that Rûsa was the first one of the top five in the outdoor exams the previous summer.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, in Formenos:

“I know that Rûsa is able to take care of himself in situations like this, but it is completely different with Cúwen and Yuë! Not just because of their much younger age, but also because of Yuë's sickly health! What if he runs out of his medicine and he gets worse…?” Maedhros cried as she walked back and forth in the living room. She had done this enough much by now that poor Amrod started to get dizzy by her movements and he had to break away his eyes from her for a moment.

“We have done what we can without making the kidnappers realize that Rûsa disobeyed the written orders in the letter and told us what had happened…”

Nobody blamed Maedhros for being so worried for her three children, not when knowing just how things was for them. While Cúwen could be trusted in taking care of something for herself, Yuë was a lot more frail for several reasons and being the youngest child, it was not unlikely that he might be used as a hostage against Rûsa.

“Nelyo...please, sit down and try to not stress so much. It is not good for either the baby or yourself,” begged Rog as he carefully made her sit down. After Yuë's premature birth, they had feared that it would be difficult for Maedhros to conceive a fourth child and actually gotten a pleasant surprise at learning that she indeed had been able to carry a child again.

“Here, try and drink this, Nelyo.”

Maedhros barely reacted on that it was hot wine that she had been given by her father, but given the situation, it was not surprising. They were all sick with worry over how the kidnappning had happened inside the very heart of Formenos despite all the added safety that Fëanor had ordered over the years since the rebirth of his family.

“Any news from the Avarin clans that have their main camps around the Pelóri Mountains?”

“Not yet, Atar. Well, unless you count in that the Mountain Clan's chief shaman mentioned something that they did have a suspicion about who the kidnappers may be, but the worrying problem about that possibility is that one of the clan girls haappens to have a possible husband-to-be among them…”

More than one of Fëanor's sons shuddered when they understood the unspoken words. If that was true, there was a huge risk that another innocent person would get involted in this horrible situation. Maedhros gasped in surprise as the unborn child under her heart kicked. With only three months left to the birth of her fourth child, Maedhros tended to worry a bit extra for all of her children, both her three oldest children and the still unborn little one.

“For now, try and have faith in Rûsa. He will not abandon them, Cúwen and Yuë is far too dear for him to do anything like that. His instincts as the oldest sibling are too strong to let something happen to them if he can prevent it.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa was well trained and could in general stand several hours of battle before getting tired, but he was not foolish enough to remain in one place where the enemy had the upper hand in a battle. In this case, being trapped on a small mountain road that ended in a circle while the enemy was hiding among the rocks above and around him. He also was kept busy in trying to avoid getting shot with an arrow in his legs that could give him an injury and handicap his attempts at defense.

“This will not work much more! I have to get out of here!”   

In a desperate try to turn the battle into his own favor, Rûsa managed to break out from where he had been trapped by running away.

“Stop him, your fools! Do not let him escape! I want all three of princess Nelyafinwë's children as hostages!”

The voice of a woman? Was she the leader for the kidnappers? If so, maybe Cúwen and Yuë were somewhere around here.

“If I only can get away from them long enough to hide somewhere...ah!”

Suddenly, as he was forced to take several steps backwards to avoid a new arrow that narrowly missed his right eye, Rûsa stepped into something that revealed itself to be a deep hole in the mountain ground. The reason for why he had not spotted it before? Part of it had been covered with a grey blanket in order to make it look smaller than what it actually was. Losing his balance when it turned out that he was unable to grab anything in time, Rûsa fell screaming down into the deep hole.

“AAAAAAH!”

The hole turned out to be a deep, natural tunnel in the mountain. However, it was neither smooth or gentle towards any being that fell into the hole. Several times, Rûsa hit a out-sticking rock that did not spare much of his body in the fall. From the pain he felt on the first rock in that manner, he knew that at least one of his ribs had been broken and did not doubt for a moment that his whole body would be covered with bruises once he finally landed at the bottom. The only reason to why Rûsa managed to avoid hitting his head as he fell downwards, was the instinctive reaction of rolling the body into a ball and use his arms as head protection against any possible hits.

“Agh!”

After what felt like an eternity, not least because of the injuries he received in the tunnel, Rûsa landed painfully at the bottom. Thanks to the high speed he had been falling in, he ended up with his back against one of the cave walls.

“By the stars of Varda...such a beginner mistake...I was too careless...forgot to watch the ground as well…!” Rûsa hissed in pain, feeling grateful for that he at least had not broken his neck from the landing. He was in pain all over his body, and the slightest movement created a new wave of pain so strong that he nearly screamed. His ribs, shoulders and legs had taken the worst of the hits in the fall. Trying to remain awake was no use, he could feel that he was dangerously close to pass out from the pain.

“ _No...I have to remain...awake! If I pass out now…!_ ”

Rûsa was well aware of the danger of passing out when you were alone, it had happened several times in Angband that he had ended up tripping over a fellow slave that had fallen unconscious thanks to a head injury. Far too often it had been too late to help the other slave because the unconsciousness was too deep and it slowly transformed into death as the head injury did its horrible deed.

Footsteps.

“ _Someone...is coming…?_ ”

But he could not hear who it was. Desperate, he hoped that it was someone from the Mountain clan. If the kidnappers got their hands on him as well…

What would happen then? Clearly it was a serious, perhaps even dangerous, reason for that Yuë and Cúwen had been kidnapped like that. And they had been used as bait to lure him into a trap. Against his own will, Rûsa fell into the dark depths of unconsciousness before he could see who the leather shoes belonged to.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_It hurt. Everything in her body and mind hurt so much. She weakly remembered people in Gondolin whispering that her strange behaviour must the result of having a such horrible father. It had hurt so much to hear them talk about Eöl in that way, as if he had been some kind of monster. True, he was not perfect as a father or ideal as a husband and he did have a bit of a temper, but he had never harmed her or Aredhel in some way outside a possible shouting when his limits was pushed too far and maybe confiscated something emotionally valuable for a few days as punishment. That threat to set her in bonds had mostly been a reaction in anger over her wish to leave the protection of Nan Elmoth._

_“Why...why did it end up like that? How could it be that both of my parents were lost to me no less than a night between them…hm?”_

_Something wet was touching her forehead and face. A wet rag? Yes, it must be that. Slowly, Maeglin managed to wake up. At first, she could not see anything. But slowly, she could focus on something. A face, barely seen in the dark red mass of thick, unkempt hair that fell around the face. But the pair of black eyes was clearly seen. And the iron mask was not covering his face..._

_Rûsa looked at her for a moment with almost sorrowful eyes, and that was long enough for Maeglin to feel some of his current mood by the link from when they had joined their bodies as one thanks to those horrible fertility drugs that they had been forced to swallow; a clear mix of sorrow that he had caused her even more pain when she had already been suffering from the torture, relief that she had woken up and fear for what would happen now. There was no anger or any other negative feelings, just...fear for how she might react to him and that she might be used against him by Sauron and Morgoth now when they were bonded._

_“...forgive me.”_

_Two words. Two tiny little words barely heard in a faint whisper, yet it was everything Maeglin could understand in that moment. He wished for her forgiveness for indirectly harming her thanks to the two Dark Lords' twisted idea when he had not wanted to make her his concubine. Slowly, she moved her fingers towards his own finger tops on his right hand. It was a small touch, but a clear proof of that she did forgive him. For how would Maeglin ever be able to forget that look of absolute horror in his black eyes when they became bound, even if the rest of his face had been covered by that iron mask?_

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“Maeglin...Maeglin! Stop daydreaming! You have not listened to a word of what I just said.”

The sound of Eöl's displeased voice made Maeglin stop thinking about that memory. She did not know why, but for some reason, she had suddenly came to the instinct that something might have happened to Rûsa.

“Sorry, Ada, I did not mean to do that.”

Eöl did not say anything as he looked at his daughter from his stallion. He knew that something was worrying her, that much was clear from the way her face looked. Even if he did not know about her being courted in secret by Rûsa, he had seen that they were much more than just friends as most people believed them to be. He also knew that haunting look in her eyes; the sign of that she was in need of a life-partner soon. Maeglin had managed to deal with being unwed ever since her rebirth, but now that kind of life had started to feel empty in her heart. She needed someone to share her life with, to be a support for her when things went wrong.

“Are you really sure that it is no problem related to the heart?” Eöl asked over his shoulder, using the Avarin way of speaking about love-related things.

“NO!” Maeglin protested immediately, fearing for a moment that she might have revealed herself to her father. Lucky for her, Eöl was not looking at her anymore.

“Come on, we are almost at the main camp for the Mountain clan. The sooner can help to find those kidnappers that dared to take your young second-cousins right under the nose of their older brother inside the very heart of Formenos, the sooner the kids can return home to their mother.”

Maeglin nodded, following after her father as she calmed down at seeing that he had not caught any hint to her secret. Once she had allowed herself some rest after the journey, she would follow some of the warriors out in the Pelóri Mountains to see if Rûsa really was in need of outside help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Yes, even a badass character like Rûsa gets seriously injured if he suddenly falls down into a underground tunnel like that, and it is no small injuries that he gets thanks to a natural-made tunnel being anything both smooth. Elves might be more graceful than humans, but they are not above the laws of reality when it comes to such situations.


	19. Choose your battles carefully

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when you are a hostage, sometimes you need to find a way out yourself rather than wait for help

It was the sound of bickering voices that made Rûsa wake up from his unconsciousness. And yet, he knew that something was wrong. Not only was his whole body still hurting after the fall as if he had not been given any painkiller for the pain, the way he arms was being hold…

“....w-what!?”

As he awoke properly, Rûsa realized that his arms was being tied around a thick stalagminte that he was seated against with his back. He could also see Cúwen and Yuë, where they were being held back by two adult Elves.

“Oh? Our guest seems to have woken up.”

The same female voice as before, quickly followed by an much familiar one saying in an angry voice:

“You people only managed to catch our brother by luring him into a trap, old hag!”

Ah, the infamous Fëanorian temper. Cúwen normally was a lot more even-tempered than most of their maternal relatives, but she could still show hints to her lineage if she ever got a reason for it.

“Ill-manned little brat! This is why the High Kings should never allow the Eldar to be joined in marriage to those Avarin savages!” the _nis_ said in an arrogant voice, as the elf holding back Cúwen was looking around with pleading eyes for help, clearly understanding the mistake she had done.

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Rûsa hissed in anger, making everyone look at him. Ok, it was one thing to speak badly about the Avarin Elves behind their backs, but seeing that all three of Maedhros' children were half-Avari on their two different fathers' side, hearing such talk straight to their faces was literally asking for trouble.

“So it was you all along…”

Now when he was wide awake and seeing the faces clearly, Rûsa could place some of them without much problem. He might not always remember a name, but he tended to be good with faces.

“Brother! Big brother Rûsa, are you all right?!”

Rûsa wished that he could answer that, yes, but unfortunately it was not that way. Calcanis placed a long, thin stick along his cheek. Rûsa did not show it even if he did follow the stick with his eyes, but mentally he was trying to keep down his panic. The stick reminded him too much about the times Sauron would use a rolled-up whip towards his face as a silent warning that the Maia felt that Rûsa was crossing a line behind Morgoth's back.

“What is wrong, prince Russafinwë? Too scared to speak despite what you just said?”

There was a mocking tone in Calcanis' voice, revealing her not-so-small wish to spite and humiliate Rûsa in front of the two very siblings that he had tried to save. More than one of the present Elves felt a little nervous at the icy-cold glare Yuë was giving Calcanis.

“A...ammë...I think it is enough for now, or would you perfer this young lady to start trouble again....?”

Almo was already having trouble in trying to keep Cúwen remain still without needing to use force. Calcanis snorted, before removing the stick from Rûsa's face.  

“Keep the brats away from their brother. I will not tolerate _any_ mistake that leads to them making a escape because of your worthlessness to guard them.”

To show her point, Calcanis held up the stick towards her second youngest son's face, the threat unsproken but unavoidable clear.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Once Túrëo and his brothers had brought Cúwen and Yuë back to a room deeper inside the cave, did Vórimo and Almo let go of them.

“I am sorry about our mother. She holds a grudge towards your maternal family for something that happened long before you were born, when your brother Rûsa was a couple of years younger than what this little one is now.”

For once Yuë did not mind being called little, as he currently was trying to stop a coughing fit. Almo supported him when he saw that the albino Elfling had difficult in standing straight.

“That event when Haru Fëanor, ammë Nelyo and our maternal uncles was almost murdered in front of all the guests in the royal palace thanks to being tricked into drinking a poisoned wine? Atto Rog once said that it was one of ammë's old suitors who was behind it…” Cúwen commented with a small frown in concentration as she tried to remember the details that her father had mentioned to her when she had asked how things had been in the family before she was born. Well, one thing that she clearly remembered was Rog muttering “ _wish that I had broken his jaw when it came out that he was the one to nearly kill my Fëanorian Ruby princess_ ” under his breath.

“Yes...I do not know how much you two knows about it, but...our father was involted in that event, because princess Nelyafinwë had turned him down in their youth back in the Years of the Trees. And ammë Calcanis still refuses to believe that he was guilty…”

Despite Calcanis' order to not get too familiar with their hostages, her three oldest sons had secretly disobeyed her words. Not so strange, actually, when it had fallen on them to watch Cúwen and Yuë as Calcanis insisted on that it was the only task they should not br able to mess up with. Even with knowing that she already had an very low trust in them thanks to refusing to avenge their father, so had those words hurt a lot.  

“No offensive, guys, but I really thinks that your mother has more than one screw loose in her head. I mean, if the All-father allowed our maternal family to be reborn, anyone with half a brain would understand that sending them back to the Halls of Mandos would only cause a lot of trouble in the long run.”

The three adult Elves simply snorted in agreement to her words. They had often felt the same over the years.

“I am on the night guard duty this night, try to not cause any trouble for now and we might be able to fix a secret meeting with your brother for you sometime during the night when our mother and youngest brother is asleep,” said Almo in a quiet voice as Túrëo checked in case someone was spying on them from the tunnel. Both the Elflings nooded slowly, looking worried. They had only spent a few days here, but they feared the mood swings that Calcanis tended to have, not to mention that Finyo also had quickly picked up a habit of bullying the kidnapped siblings just to grab a semblance of power. While Finyo was short in stature and almost laughably scrawny in contrast to how tall and strongly-built Rûsa was in his body shape, Finyo had something that Rûsa never had in either one of his two very different lives: the aggressive behaviour of an arrogant, selfish bully who also was not above belitting his older siblings and acting like he was the head of the family instead of Túrëo despite being the youngest of the four brothers.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa had been left alone for a couple of hours, but that did not mean that he had lowered his guard. This situation was too similar to Angband, where a single mistake could result in death. Even if he knew that it was very unlikely that Calcanis would cause a fourth Kinslaying by ordering the death of him and his half-siblings, the kidnapping alone would get her and her four sons in deep trouble when it became clear that they were behind it.

“This is really not good...I have to find a way to free myself and then find my siblings without getting caught again by those people. Another problem is that I have no idea where we are…”

He could tell from the lack of feeling in his tied hands that he must have been in that position for a small while, after all, not letting the blood flow as it should. A single little oil lamp had been left on the cave floor a bit away from him, but even if he had been able get it closer to himself, it would not have been of much use.

“At least I know that Cúwen and Yuë is unharmed for the moment…”

He was half-way giving in to the the temptation to fall asleep and try to sleep for a few hours, when Calcanis suddenly showed up with someone. Because of that they both had been 12-year-old Elflings the last time Rûsa had seen her youngest son Finyo, it took some moments for him to understand who it was.

“What do you want now, woman? If you think that I will obey whatever you will order because of how things currently is, then I am afraid that you are horribly wrong,” Rûsa hissed in an annoyed voice, not caring if he was rude to Calcanis right now. He was tired, hurting all over his body after the earlier fall and worried for his siblings. Most people outside the House of Fëanor had learnt over the years to spot signs of when Rûsa was in a bad mood and not in the right mind for talking. Unfortunately neither Calcanis or Finyo had that trait, and thus saw it as that Rûsa was lacking social manners.  

“You ill-manned little...I will teach you how to speak to a lady!”

_Slap!_

To be honest, Rûsa had actually almost expected her to slap him. Still, it did hurt and his head was forced to his left side by the slap. And the pain brought up unpleasant memories from Angband. Yet, it was her next words that filled him with sudden terror:

“Finyo, give me the whip. It looks like I need to teach this illegitimate-born mongrel the manners that princess Nelyafinwë clearly has not cared to teach him at all.”

Trying to get away as much as he could from her with his arms tied around the thick stalagminte, Rûsa fought to keep his quickly-growing fear under control. The first whipping across his chest was not hard enough to cause much of a injury, thanks to Calcanis not having much training in how to use a whip, and yet the pain brought up a endless stream of memories linked to different punishments that he had been given in Angband during his life as a slave there in the underground tunnels. Rûsa did his best to hold back screams of pain behind his clenched teeth as he was whipped a second time, then a third time. Before long, his tunic had been ripped open and several bleeding wounds covered the earlier unharmed skin. In his mind, while trying so hard to not cry out in pain from the whipping, Rûsa could almost hear Sauron's soft voice, equally tempting like poisoned honey…

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_“Where is she, Rûsa? Is it really that hard to answer one single question, about your sweet little concubine?”_

_Another slash of the whip across his back when he did not answer, one that he barely felt thanks to be on the brink of unconsciousness and the lack of feeling in his back. He had been whipped enough many times during his life to almost not have any feeling left at all in the back. The nerve pathways had been destroyed. Sauron snorted in displeasure and ordered something to a guard orc._

_“Dare to fall unconscious and you will be losing one more tooth to wake you up,” warned Sauron and grabbed hold of Rûsa's jaw to force him to look up. Rûsa was quick to get widely awake again when he saw the black spider in the Maia's other hand. He made a small whimper in faint terror and tried to back away, but the chains from the roof and floor held him in place._

_“Yes. Did you really think that I had forgotten how terrified you got of Ungoliant's offspring that time long ago when they were found in a nest around Angband?” Sauron almost purred with a cruel smile as he slowly held the spider closer to Rûsa's face, clearly enjoying the look of pure horror in the black eyes as Rûsa tried in vain to get away from the spider._

_“No....no, NO, NO, NO!! PLEASE! NO!! I will tell, I will tell!”_

_“A little too late for that, I am afraid.”_

_As the spider was placed on his face the Noldor-Avarin Elf went into a panic attack, actually crying and begging Sauron to take it away._

_“Your concubine. Where is she?” asked Sauron calmly, using a stick to make the spider move across Rûsa's face. Knowing how terrified Rûsa was for spiders, it would not take long for him to break._

_“G....Go...Gondolin! I let her escape back to Gondolin! Please, please...take it away! Take away the spider, please! She is in Gondolin…!”_

_Rûsa was crying in open fright now as the spider moved around on his face, shaking in his whole body from terror and looking ready to pass out. Using the stick to flip away the spider so it landed into the stone bowl with burning coals close-by, Sauron gently petted Rûsa's crying face with a glovered hand as if he hade been one of his werewolves._

_“See? Not so hard to tell where she was, huh? If you just had told master Morgoth back in the throne room fourteen days ago, you could have been spared my more heavy-handed methods to get you to talk.”_

_Rûsa did not say anything, he was still too deep into a panic to really react on the touch outside a new flow of tears from pure terror._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Calcanis lowered the whip when she saw that Rûsa was not reacting to being whipped anymore. Tossing the whip away, she grabbed a painful hold of Rûsa's hair so he was forced to look up on her.

“Listen up, _Russafinwë_ ,” she said his mother-name as if it was a curse word, “I do not care whatever your mother says that you are the result of a legal marriage which later was annulled, you will never be anything else than a _child of sin_ born to an irresponsible Kinslayer of a mother who has the nerve of claiming that you have a legal right to the Kingship of the Noldor!”

Rûsa glared up at her when he heard what she was saying. His black eyes were unusally cold for him, and any former slave in Angband would immediately have tried to get away from Rûsa if they had seen his eyes in that very moment.

“And your own four sons are free from sin when fathered by a husband who tried to kill the Crown Prince of the Noldor and his family by poison, just because of that my ammë refused to marry him back in the Years of the Trees?” Rûsa asked in a cold voice that could have frightened Maedhros if she had heard him.

_Slap!_

A new slap from Calcanis on his other cheek this time.

“Don't you dare to talk about my honorable husband Nárion like that, you misbegotten spawn of Morgoth! Finyo, dearest child, tell the guards to keep an eye on him. I do not trust your older brothers when it comes to our three hostages, they have always been weak around children…”

Turning around as she let go of him, she made a sign for her youngest son to follow her. Suddenly, without any warning, Finyo kicked Rûsa in the ribs where he had hurt himself in the fall down the underground tunnel. The new pain was so unexpected, that Rûsa bent forward and gasped for breath in pain. He did not start crying, but it was very close that he did. He heard Finyo cruelly laugh in a mocking tone as he followed after his mother, and Calcanis saying:

“...and if you will have any change to marry into the royal family by being that ill-bred girl's future husband, her two brothers needs to be rid of...”

Oh dear. This was worrying news, Rûsa knew that Cúwen was after him in line to the throne thanks to Fëanor insisting on that Maedhros was his Heir despite that she was a female. And if Calcanis would try and force Maedhros and Rog into a marriage agreement between Finyo and Cúwen by some sort of blackmail, she likely saw him and Yuë as obstacles on her youngest son's path to power.

“I need to get my siblings and myself out of here as quick as possible! But how? I doubt that Calcanis and her four sons are alone in this…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

A new shadow fell over him, revealing that her second youngest son Almo had entered inside the small cave room once his mother and brother had left. He looked terrified at seeing the wounds that Calcanis had given Rûsa with the whip. Without saying a sound, he hurried out and were quick to return with the basic items needed for first aid.

“Not the first time something like this has been caused by your mother?” Rûsa asked without really looking at him. Almo only nodded quickly in response as he hesitantly cleaned the wounds, as if he expected Rûsa to suddenly snap or yell at him. This behaviour worried Rûsa greatly, as it reminded him painfully much about how the slave healers in Angband tended to be; terrified for making one single mistake that could have them getting punished, withdrawn in personality and often needing a special moment in order to show themselves actually having a backbone instead of being seen as a doormat.

“From the way she acts, I am surprised that you and your older brothers have not left her a long time ago,” Rûsa muttered loud enough for Almo to hear it. The brunette-haired Elf first hesitated to answer, and instead tried to focus on wrapping the bandage around Rûsa's body where he could do it. After all, when your patient is bound around something, it is a much more difficult task to bandage several wounds than what it normally would be.

“...he might be dead since a long time ago, but our father Nárion is still...present in our minds. If we try to leave…he...he might...”

Rûsa shuddered, realizing what Almo meant without saying too much. It was exactly the same, just like how he had been living back in the First Age. He could remember Morgoth's and Sauron's manner in using various tactics in order ro keep him trapped in Angband, forever chained to Morgoth as the Warg Rider. The ever present fear for punishment in the back of your mind, fear that your actions might lead to someone else being harmed in your place. The short month with Maeglin as his concubine had been a excellent example for him when it came to that fear.

“And no one of you three does not have any real reason to leave…?”

For all his general kindness and warm heart, Rûsa also knew how to influence people in a less than honest way. As much as he hated to manipulate people, it had sometimes been a necessary part of his survival in Angband.

“...I did talk with Túrëo and Vórimo about making our parents disown us three for years already long before our father...tried to harm your lady mother and her family…”

Rûsa nodded slowly in understanding, hoping that it would make Almo talk more. Perhaps the three brothers felt such huge fear for their unpleasant mother and spoiled brother, along with guilt over being involved in this kidnapping that they likely were desperate for any way that would give the brother trio a chance to get away from them forever. If so, he could try and make a deal with them; letting him and his younger siblings get free in exchange for hiding them among one of the Avarin Clans. Over the years, it had not become too uncommon that non-Avarin Elves sought refuge among the Avarin Elves for one thing or another, as long as they could prove that they had not been exiled for a crime or something similar since patronage of criminals could give the Avarin Clans an even worse reputation than what they already had among Eves who did not trust them.

“You are secretly bonded to a young lady from the Mountain Clan, are you not?” Rûsa asked bluntly when he spotted a small bracelet of gold and turquoise around Almo's right wrist, the Mountain Clan's way of telling others that you were married. It seemed like he hit the right spot for some careful manipulation into stopping the plans Calcanis likely had made, for Almo nearly dropped the bowl with slightly bloodied water at the unexpected words and looked around in terror if someone had overheard Rûsa.

“Please be quiet! If one of the guards or Finyo heard you and tell _her_ …!”

So Calcanis was another one of those haughty Elves who saw the Avarin Elves as savages and below the other Elves thanks to never having made the Great Journey. Well, that was emotional blackmail that Rûsa would not use against someone who reminded him so much about more weak-willed slaves in Angband. No, it was clear that Calcanis' three oldest sons was in desperate need of help to get free from their current lives and that the fourth one, her youngest son, was a lost case with how he was in terms of behaviour. To trick the guards into make them think that he was in despair over the situation he were in, Rûsa leaned forwards to let his hair cover his face from being seen and whispered  to Almo:

“ _Which choice would you and your brothers favour more; remain here and live a miserable life under your mother's thumb, or the freedom of living your own lives under the protection from one of the Avarin Clans?_ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: As the flashback shows, Rûsa really, really cannot stand spiders. And for why Sauron did not use the spider to make him confess to where Maeglin had escaped to earlier...Sauron is a Dark Lord as well! He loved to mess with Rûsa back in Angband for several reasons, and that I bet that it would be completely in-character for a Fallen Maia like him to first torture a slave before using something that he knows will really freak out his victim. (Like how poor Celebrimbor here in the Rûsa-AU can't stand the idea of making rings anymore thanks to the events with Sauron and the Rings of Power.)


	20. A crossing point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a escape goes wrong, you never knows what can happen

The sun was setting when one of the warriors from the Mountain Clan stopped to walk, looking over his shoulder for a sound he just had heard.

“Sh! Everyone, listen. Is that the barking of a dog?”

“Well, it does not sound like a wolf if you ask me...ah!”

In the next moment, said dog showed up ahead of them and nearly knocked Maeglin over in greeting. Lucky, she managed to remain on her feet, knowing how common it was that Snowflake knocked someone over by mistake because of her large size, being a offspring of Huan after all.

“Snowflake? Why are you alone, you poor girl? Where is your owner?”  

The large greyish-white dog whined, then started to scramble with the forepaws on a small rock under a broken cliff.

“Are you saying that Rûsa climbed over there and has not returned yet?”

A whine in answer from Snowflake. That was worrying in itself. What if he had gotten injuried and was unble to move? Or had he walked into a trap set by the kidnappers, ending up captured by them as well?

“Miss Maeglin, lord Eöl. Please come over here with us for a moment. The more than can check out what happened here, the better,” requested another warrior as he started to climb up where Rûsa had done the same just the very same morning.

“Well, if those arrows are not the sign of a battle, I do not know.”

The whole mountain path was covered with the signs of a very one-sided battle if some knew what to look for. Uneven footprints as if someone had been running, broken arrows that had been carelessly left behind, ripped-off pieces of clothing that held the symbol for the House of Fëanor.

“Look here,” Maeglin said as she bent down and picked up something from the ground, “it is one of the throwing daggers I gave to Rûsa as a gift for passing his exams last summer.”

It worried her a lot that all ten of the throwing daggers was laying around on the ground without any sign of the owner. She knew that Rûsa was skilled when it came to survive in battle, but what if Cúwen and Yuë had been used to Rûsa's disadvantage by the kidnappers?

“Everyone, over here! It is an hole that leads to a underground tunnel here.”

“Could Rûsa have fallen in here? It is large enough for that ginger-haired, overgrown beanstalk of a Elf to actually fall in here if he was forced to look up and not watching his steps for some reason…”

Their worries was not lessened at seeing some dark spots that could only be blood.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

It was quiet inside the cave, outside the sounds that the guards made when they walked around. Rûsa could hear silent footsteps come closer to him from behind, there was another small cave opening somewhere behind him even if he had not been able to see that very well.

“Prince Russafinwë, are you awake?”

Almo. As much as he hoped that the three oldest brothers had hooked on his suggestion, Rûsa also knew that there was a huge risk that they also had revealed his plan to their mother and that Almo likely would betray him by leading him into another trap. Some parents were simply so dominant in the lives of their children that their sons and daughters never managed to get out from their crushing thumb.

“Yes.”

This was it, the very moment which everything depended on. What would happen from here?

“Both our sets of siblings are at one of the other exits deeper inside the cave. If we just can get past the guards…”

Rûsa allowed himself to relax a little as his hands was freed. But he was quickly reminded of the fall and minor whipping from earlier, thanks to several waves of pain flooding thought his body when he tried to stand up. Almo hurried to support Rûsa before he collapsed back down on the cave floor, laying one of Rûsa's arms over his own shoulders as support.

“You are not the first Elf who has been injuried from falling into that underground tunnel by mistake. Finyo pushed Túrëo during a argument many years ago and out of instinct to grab someone, he ended up dragging our youngest brother along into the hole. Ammë nearly went hysterical over her “poor baby boy” despite that he got away with a couple of bruises thanks to not taking many hits while poor Túrëo has never really recovered from how badly he broke his right leg in the same fall…”

That explained the limp Rûsa had spotted on the olderst brother earlier when he had passed by. It was clear that Túrëo still suffered from some sort of pain during walking, the remaining injury the result as if they did not have a proper healer in the outcast group.

“Vórimo is the best one of us three on healing, but our father refused to let him study to become a healer when we are much younger back in the Third Age, saying that it was below our social status…and when he still tried to sneak away to the healer school in secret, Atar pushed him hard into a wall with such force that Vórimo got a concussion and he was grounded for over six months as punishment...” Almo whispered carefully as they started to walk, clearly somewhat afraid from the way he was looking around at the shadows. Rûsa snorted in disagreement: Elrond was a perfect example of a healer who did not allow his royal blood or social status ruin his wish to become a healer.

“Really, what shame is it in having a healer in the family...it is actually rather useful if something happens...my aunt-by-marriage Astarë is a healer and that is a good thing, given that both uncle Curvo and my cousin are blacksmiths…”

Rûsa could remember several times when Astarë's skills as a healer had come to be useful. Like the first time he had been trying to climb atop on one of the family wardrobes shortly after his rebirth to explore the details at the top of the wardrobe and ending up with a sprained ankle and a dislocated shoulder as result. That had been the first time Maedhros had scolded him as a parent, proving that she would be the loving yet stern mother for him that he had been in serious need of if he ever was to survive in Aman with his past.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Almo helped Rûsa walk thought several tunnels. Twice they had to hide from a passing guard and they always had to stop a couple of times because of Rûsa feeling pain from his broken ribs, but otherwise things went well.

“Almo? Are you there?” whispered Vórimo as he looked out from behind a dark corner, holding Cúwen in his arms as her weight otherwise risked to cause Túrëo unneeded pain from his leg, which explained why he was carrying Yuë in his arms instead.

“Yes. Lets go, before they notice what we have done…”

There was no turning back by now. If Calcanis learned what her three oldest sons were doing, who knew how she was doing to react. Most likely, she would see them as traitors and do something fatally to them in her anger.

“This way.”

To lessen the great risk of being spotted by a guard before they even had gotten out of the cave tunnels, they took a hidden path which Almo had used for his secret meetings with Qucha.

“Are the two of you boh all right, Cúwen?”

_Depends on what you mean by all right, brother…_

There was a worrying tiredness in Yuë's mental voice and Rûsa not calmed down very much at seeing no signs of the vial with medicine that his younger half-brother always carried with him. Had Yuë run out of his medicine during the days that had passed since the kidnapping? If so, they needed to act quickly. A sudden coughing fit from Yuë could reveal them by mistake thanks to a echo and with his frail health, there was a high risk of Yuë ending up as a hinder to a quick escape. But the 20-year-old albino Elfling could not help that he was frail, along with doing his best in this escape as they were doing at the moment.

“Carefully, it is a narrow step here.”

A more narrow step could be dangerous for several reasons. And if one of the four adults tripped, the guards could be alarmed by the sudden noise. But perhaps as a unknown blessing from the Valar or the All-Father Himself, nothing happened until they were at the exit. It was in that moment as they heard a guard yelling:

“ _Lady Calcanis, the oldest prisoner has escaped! The two brats and your three eldest sons are nowhere to be seen as well!!_ ”

“Oh no, they have found out what we have done…”

Then, Calcanis' voice was heard as well. She held a frighteningly insane, nearly murderous tone in her voice as she shouted:

“ _Find them! All six of them! If princess Nelyafinwë's brats get away thanks to this, my three oldest sons will deeply regret the days they were begotten!_ ”

This was not good. If they did not hurry to get away, they could be captured again. Rûsa did not blame the three brothers for turning deadly pale in terror at hearing what their mother was shouting. Only a few hours around her and Rûsa was already wondering if not Calcanis actually was a former female orc who had been reborn as a Elf. If she indeed was one, then she might be one of those really dominant ones he had seen in Angband, often pretty much ancient by the age standards in Angband for how long they had managed to survive.

“Don't just stand here, hurry!” Rûsa snapped to make them focus on getting away.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Now they were forced to really run, to avoid getting captured by the other exiles in Calcanis' group.

“This way!”

They ran along the small mountain path as quick as they could, for with Túrëo's limp and Rûsa's injuries there was a limit to how fast the two oldest brothers could run. Over their heads, the sky was getting darker and they could hear the sounds of thunder in the clouds.

“Stop!”

But one unexpected obstacle in the escape path was revealed very quickly: the dead tree that was used as a bridge over a deep ravine had been blown away in a storm that had taken place a few weeks earlier.

“Oh great...this was the fastest way I could think about...and we will lose important time by trying to get to the closest ones from here…” said Almo in growing fear that he would cause them all to be captured.

“Looks like we have no other choice than jumping over to the other other side, then,” commented Rûsa in a unexpectedly calm voice, causing the other five to look at him in shock. But understanding that he was right, along with the steady sounds of footsteps coming closer, made up their mind.

“Almo, jump over first so one of us adults can catch the children, they are too small to jump over and land safely on their own,” requested Vórimo. Neither Cúwen or Yuë protested against being called small, they knew that it was best to not start a argument right now. Almo swallowed hard, but obeyed. For once, the thinner body build caused from their lack of food was useful and Almo was able to land on the other side without trouble.

“Catch!”

As Vórimo already had been holding Yuë, it was no wonder that he was tossed over first, before Cúwen followed after. Once Almo had set her down on the ground, Vórimo jumped. Being less skilled in measure the distance, he landed nearly at the edge and had to be pulled to safety by Amlo.

“Vórimo!”

All of them exhaled the breath that they have kept in fear that he would step wrong on landing and fall down into the deep ravine as a result.

“I am all right. Almo...calm down…” gasped Vórimo, feeling his legs give away due to the small shock of stepping wrong and he needed to sit down on the ground for a few moments to calm his fast-beating heart. Now only Túrëo and Rûsa reminded on the other side. Rûsa looked with an unsure look on the brunette. He could tell that Túrëo was trying really hard to hide a sudden surge of pain, most likely from his damaged right leg by the way he tried to put more of his body weight on his left leg instead, from his two younger brothers. Had all the running been too much for him, just like Rûsa found it difficult to move with his own body which felt sore all over? It would not be easy for either one to jump over to the four young siblings.

“You two has to h…

In the next moment, just as a flash of lighting suddenly crossed the night sky above them, an arrow buried itself deeply into Túrëo's right leg and he fell to the ground with a high scream of pain. It was only by a instinctive reflex to duck and move around that Rûsa narrowly avoided the same fate.

“ _Túrëo!_ ”

Almo nearly jumped back in worry for his oldest brother, had not Vórimo stopped him from doing so.

“Ammë, ammë! I have found them! They are over here!”

Finyo. Of all the people who had managed to find them, it just had to be him. As Rûsa tried helping Túrëo to stand up, he screamed;

“What are you four still standing over there for!? Get out of here **_NOW!!_ ** If all six of us are captured, we might never get a chance like this to escape again!”

It was a commanding, almost pleading desperation in his voice that made Vórimo and Almo quickly pick up the protesting Cúwen and Yuë so they could escape.

“No! Brother! Big brother Rûsa!”

But it was no use to protest, Vórimo and Almo was already hurrying down the cliffs in a desperate attempt to get as much distance between them and the pursuers as they could.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Using all of his strength that he could bring up at the moment, Rûsa half-dragged, half-pulled Túrëo into a small cave that he had seen. It was nowhere as big as the other one, but he knew that they needed to hide right now. As Túrëo collapsed in a gasp of pain, it was clear that he could not go on. The arrow were adding new pain in his damaged leg and Rûsa was not sure if he could remove the arrow without help.

“Jump over...the ravine and join...our siblings, my lord! You can still escape in time...if you leave me behind…” begged Túrëo weakly as he tried to remain awake, the pain in his leg being almost too much for him at the moment. In contrast, Rûsa felt a growing desperation in his heart at the words. A quick flashback of how often it had happened in Angband crossed his mind. Far too often for his own feelings of guilt and horror, he had been forced to leave someone behind in order to escape from something that otherwise could have ended his life long before he had met Maeglin in First Age 509. Carefully grabbing his arms, Rûsa was almost shaking the semiconscious Túrëo as he desperatly said:  

“I am not leaving you to face the wrath of your mother alone! This escape plan was my idea, I was the one to cause all of this!”

Túrëo tried to answer, but the pain overtook him and he fainted. Rûsa looked around in horror, fighting against the panic that threatened to overtake him. Footsteps coming closer as flashes of lighting swept over the sky outside the cave, Calcanis commanding her men to search for them.

“No...no! This can't be happening! If we are caught…”

His imagination was going wild as he realized what could possibly be a outcome from this:

Calcanis ensuring that her own three eldest sons were killed for helping them trying to escape, then most likely ordering his and Yuë's death in order to make Cúwen come closer to the throne; Maedhros possibly losing her will to live after losing both of her sons; Rog blackmailed into having poor Cúwen marry Finyo once she was old enough; the rest of the House of Fëanor being found dead in different ways as Calcanis tried to make her son the consort to the future High Queen of the Noldor…

Then, he remembered so many moments of his life. Small, yet so important ones for him:

“ _If I had been in change of the writing exam, I would have given him a full one hundred points because I know how much he is always struggling with his difficulties in reading and writing difficult texts._ ”

“ _I am not hating you for what happened between us in Angband, Rûsa. I saw in your eyes that you really did not want to take me as your concubine if it not had been that I likely would have ended up as a breeding slave instead._ ”  

“ _Ammë, Rog, Cúwen! Did you all three hear that in your minds as well? Yuë just spoke his first word!_ ”

“ _I am counting to three, nephew. If you do not come back down to the ground before then, you can trust us three to tell your mother what you are doing up in a tree!_ ”

“ _There is no shame in not becoming a blacksmith like me, my father and our grandfather, little cousin. Try and see where you might have a talang into._ ”

“ _You are_ _always_ _my son, Rûsa, no matter what you think. You were born as my son and I will always love you._ ”

For a moment, everything was deadly quiet in the cave. Then, a massive flash of light made from several flashes of lighting nearly illuminated the night sky so bright that it could have been daylight and a deafening noise echoed thought the air.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, Maeglin's group had taken temporary shelter against the thunder outside. None of them held a wish of possibly be hit by lighting as they walked around.

“Goodness, that was a very powerful flash of lighting indeed! We did the right thing to hide in here under the cliffs,” one of the Avarin warriors said in minor shock as he held the ears of a younger cousin to protect his hearing against the thunder. By instinct, they had also covered their faces with their arms to not get momentarily blinded from the light. Faint mumblings and nods in agreement came from the others.

“I think it is safe to get out again, come on.”

But as they started to move, something strange was noted:

“Säsha? What is wrong?”

The Mountain clan shaman, who had followed with them in case something spiritual was needed, was shaking violently throughout her whole body and almost seemed to be on the brink of a panic attack caused by pure fear. Since some of the warriors knew that she was not afraid of thunder, it must be something else that caused her to react like that.

“Aunt Säsha?” her nephew asked in worry. Säsha had been one of the Mountain Clan members that had survived the longest in Angband and normally it was only a really long mention of the horrors in Angband that could cause her to act this terrified.

“Th-this aura...this dark aura…! This power…! One of the most terrifying beings that was created by the hands of the two Dark Lords…!”

Säsha's worried nephew got his hands full in trying to calm down his aunt before she really had a panic attack. Maeglin looked uneasily on the others: Säsha was important in trying to find Rûsa's spiritual trail, so it was a seriously bad time for her to having a panic attack.

“Who are you taking about, aunt?”

Säsha looked up with fearful eyes from where she had rolled her body together into a ball and trying to protect her head with her arms. Her lips trembled as she opened her mouth to answer...

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Outside the cave, Finyo and the other exiled Elves was looking for where the six escaped Elves had went.

“This is that useless Túrëo's footprints. He has been walking like this ever since that time he damaged his right leg…”

As Rûsa was notable bigger than other Elves, it was rather easily to see where he had been stepping as well. Snorting, Finyo walked towards the cave opening.

“Lord Finyo, I would not recommand entering that cave, it is an unsteady one with great risk of a serious cave in,” warned one of the other Elves when he saw where the young Elf went. Finyo simply gave him a arrogant glare over his shoulder.

“Whatever. We can use that to get rid of my oldest brother and that baseborn “prince” quickly. Once trapped in there, we do not need to think more of what to do with them…?!”

Suddenly a powerful aura could be felt from inside the cave. It was that kind of deadly, ruthless aura which could even the most bravest warriors to start shiver in pure fear from its power, like a predator ready to attack its prey.

“W-what is this?” stuttered Finyo. There was not supposed to be any one of the Maiar or Valar here right now! So where is this power come from? Used as he was to being on control of a situation, Finyo failed at trying to hide his fear. And when he felt a pair of eyes set on him, he backed in terror.

“Finyo!”

Calcanis came running, placing her hands on Finyo's shoulder to give him support. A shadow could be seen standing in the darkness just behind the cave opening. A small flash of lighting revealed that it was Rûsa who was standing there. But when he spoke, it was not really Rûsa's voice that was heard:

“ ** _It looks like I have been sleeping far shorter than I intended,_** ” Rûsa commented, his voice deadly calm despite the power surging though his speech. “ ** _And here I planned to respect Mother's wish for me have a normal life after the nightmare of living in Angband and accepting the fact that I never again would have to fight for my life. But now...I will not allow you to cause harm to my family any more._ ** ”

A cruel and self-confident smile, so unlike how tender Rûsa normally would smile, was on his face. A pair of black eyes that showed no mercy towards the people who had dared to awaken this side of Rûsa's personality once more glittered in the flash of residual lighting.

“Wh-what sorcery is this? No one among the damned Kinslayers or barbaric Avarin Elves would be able of...no... _who_ are you?” Calcanis asked, placing herself in front of her youngest son to protect him. As an answer, Rûsa only laughed: an amused, dark laugh that sent chills along the spines of all the Elves present.

“ ** _Really, are the shelted Elves here in Aman so blind to the horrors of Angband? Any warrior of the Exiles who lived thought the great battles of the First Age should be able to answer that,_ ** **_lady_ ** **_Calcanis._ ** ”

He adressed her with a mocking tone, showing how little he cared for titles outside those few that had managed to impress him somehow, like Fingolfin in his duel against Morgoth as the High King of the exiled Noldor or his maternal family.

“ ** _I am the one who once was a terror for the Noldorin Exiles in the First Age: I am the_ ** **_Warg Rider_ ** **_of Morgoth._ ** ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Aaaaand there is the cliffhanger of chapter 20, good people! You did not expect that, right? Rûsa returning into the Warg Rider? I got inspiration to this cliffhanger scene from a youtube video named YYH - Kurama vs Ura Urashima Part 2/3 480p


	21. A repeat of history

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reveal of Rûsa's skills in battle as the Warg Rider, and how history can be repeated between generations

In Formenos, Maedhros suddenly awoke from her sleep. Gasping for breath as she sat up, she tried to keep herself from shaking violently in her whole body. Something felt wrong, so horrible wrong. She had not had a feeling like this since the day when she had learned that the feared Warg Rider actually had been her own son.

“Nelyo? What is wrong, my dear Ruby?” asked Rog as he woke up from her movements, sitting up beside her. For a moment, he feared that something would have happened to her or the baby. But the look in her grey, terrified eyes revealed that it was something else.

“Rûsa...something has happened to Rûsa! Do not ask how, I just feel it!”

Maedhros would have thrown herself out of the bed if she had not been pregnant in the ninth month, which made her having to think of her movements before acting. Rog also stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Wait! Calm down before you do anything,” pleaded Rog, knowing how worried Maedhros already was when it came to the three oldest children. Getting out of bed, he helped her to stand up and walk over to the window so they could see out.

“I sense a storm somewhere...I do not know if it is an omen or not, but…”

She held her arms around her heavy pregnant belly, as if she wished to protect her fourth child from danger. Rog nodded without saying a sound.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, Almo and Vórimo had stopped running, mostly because of that they had sensed the powerful aura as well. The power made them so terrified that they barely had the willpower to move. Vórimo did not protest when Cúwen hid her face in his clothes.

“W-what...is this power? It does not feel anything like the Valar or Maiar back at Father's trial for nearly seventy-eight years ago…” gasped Almo in fear, before he felt how violently Yuë were trembling in his arms. Being the most spiritual of the four Elves present, it was no wonder that Yuë looked like he was about to faint from pure terror. Even if he was mute, moments like this needed no words.

“Whatever it is, one thing is clear: we have to get away from here as quickly as we can! As much we would wish to go back to our older brothers up there, we have to obey their wish that at least we four would escape!”

Nodding, Almo took the lead again and hurried down between the rocks. He had gotten a few hints on how to do from Qucha when it came to climbing like this if he had to carry something in his arms, which became useful now when they tried to get away as quickly as possible. Once they were down on a mountain road, they checked for any pursuers that could be following after them.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back at the cave, the air was very tense. The force of Rûsa's aura as the Warg Rider was nothing like they had sensed before, for all of them had been born in Aman after the Darkening and thus never had been in Middle-earth at all during the First Age.  

“The Warg Rider? Hah, as if we would fallen for a such trick! The Warg Rider is nothing else than a horror story meant to be told in whispers, something that the Exiles invented to conceal their failures against the Dark Lord under the lead of your maternal fam…!?”

But Rûsa did not allow Calcanis to finish her taunting, by starting to run towards them. One of her men found himself suddenly kicked in the gut with such unexpected force and speed that he nearly went flying into one of his companions while Rûsa took his sword. Rûsa did not waste any time; like a powerful eagle of Manwë he seemed to fly on his feet with an almost unnatural speed for an Elf despite the injuries he already had.

“Watch o...AAAAGH!”

Even if his body was a new one, Rûsa had regained his old skills over the years and was now almost on the same level as he once had been in Angband when he became really serious in fighting. While he normally kept himself in control in order to not harm someone by mistake, the current situation was an exception. This she-elf had wished to harm his family in so many different ways, and now she would have to pay the price. He would not kill her, but let her taste the bitterness of a cruel mercy.

“Mother! Mother, help!”

Finyo was revealing himself to barely be able to stand against Rûsa despite that Rûsa did not use any strength at all around him. Spoiled and pampered as he was by Calcanis and in general always been told by her that he would have no trouble to win the much younger Cúwen's heart once they met face to face, Finyo had never really thought much of that he actually might not even be the kind of possible husband Cúwen did want at all. That he never had bothered to learn how to use a weapon, as per Calcanis it was “only savages who used weapons”, was now revealed as another big mistake in his very limited education.

“Don't you dare to harm my baby…?!”

_Thud!_

Calcanis went silent in shock from how close that arrow had been to actually hit her in the face when Rûsa managed to change its course with his sword.

“ ** _You said something, hag?_ ** ” Rûsa spoke in a frighteningly soft voice as he pointed his sword towards Calcanis. At least ten of her men had been injuried in some way that would leave them as cripples. The others was seriously starting to regret that they had obeyed her orders to attack the prince.

“Lady Calcanis, get out of here! You and your son are only becoming burdens for us to protect right now!”

She had expected Rûsa to be like his maternal grandfather in personality, quick in anger like his uncles and haughty enough to be an easy prey with his half-siblings as bait. After all, she was one of them who strongly believed that the old sibling rivality between Fëanor and his half-brothers woud be repeated with Maedhros' children, and that Rûsa would only react to the kidnapping in order to save his face in public. Unfortunately, that had been a serious flaw in her plan to have Finyo married to Cúwen.

”No...do not let yourself be scared of him! He will not be able to go on forever with the injuries he got earlier!”

In fact, that was precise what Rûsa felt as well. Turned back into the Warg Rider or not, the adrenaline rush in his body did not really manage to lessen the pain from his injuries. He needed to get both Túrëo and himself away from here as quick as possible. Glaring over his shoulder, he got a idea that could work if they just took the bait…

“After him! Try and lock him inside the cave!”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“Maeglin! Maeglin, wait on us others!”

But she did not listen. Instead, Maeglin focused on running on the mountain path towards where the powerful aura could be felt. Her heart was filled with fear, confusion and terror.

“Why...what has caused Rûsa to return into the Warg Rider?! No doubt that he is greatly worried for Cúwen and Yuë after that they were kidnapped from Formenos like that when he took his eyes away from them, but surely that would not have been enough for this to happen?!”

Even if Rûsa had done his best to not frighten her in Angband, she had never been able to forget his powerful aura as the Warg Rider. In a way, it had hinted to surpassing Turgon's aura when he reminded everyone that he was the ruler of Gondolin, since Rûsa fought so often for his life in Angband in order to survie from one day to the next. Even if she had been afraid of him, Rûsa had never harmed her outside that single time when he was forced to take her as his concubine.

“Please, Rûsa, please...do not try anything that could destroy everyone's efforts to hide your past! One careless mistake right now when you are back as the Warg Rider could ruin you!” Maeglin begged mentally, on the hint to tears, as she ran. In her mind, different memories of their month together in Angband and the last twenty years overlapped each other:

The time she had taken the chance to see his full face while Rûsa slept; the surprise at seeing him reborn in the body of an Elfling; the time when Sauron had forced her to witness Rûsa fight in the Arena and use her as a mocking reminder for Rûsa that her life depended on him in Angband; the first time they had kissed after the event with Vanë, how nervous he had been before finally gathering enough of his courage for the kiss; the way Rûsa smiled so tenderly when he was with his siblings; how much he simply enjoyed to be _free_ instead living the life of a slave.

“ _AAAAAAAH!_ ”

A scream from somewhere above her. Maeglin stopped running, and that was a good reaction, seeing that two people was sliding down from a higher point by being dragged down in a minor case of loose soil and stone that they had stepped on. Thankfully, the two Elves did not land too awkwardly, but what surprised Maeglin was the sight of the two Elflings which they were carrying.

“Cúwen? Yuë?”

At the sound of their names, and seeing who she was in a new flash of lightning, Maeglin nearly found herself knocked over by her younger second-cousins who threw themselves towards her.

“Maaaaaeglin!”

“Uff! What...who are those two Elves? And where is your brother?! Should not Rûsa be around here too?” Maeglin asked in great worry. It was not that Maeglin meant to put Rûsa above his siblings, she simply became very scared at not seeing him with them and knowing that he had returned into being the Warg Rider again. Much to her relief, they did not seem too injuried but she did not doubt for a moment that the whole kidnappning event had been very traumatic for them.

“Vórimo and Almo helped us escape from their mother, but their own brother Túrëo and Rûsa are still up there...Yuë!”

Yuë had gotten a coughing fit. As she supported him in standing up while he gasped for breath, Maeglin saw in the corner of her eye how the Mountain Clan warriors carefully took hold of Vórimo and Almo in a non-threatening way. If it was true that they had helped the siblings to escape from the kidnappers but that Rûsa had gotten behind for some reason, it had to be in order to avoid having his half-siblings see him return into the Warg Rider.

“Ada Eöl, please keep a eye on those two. I need to see where Rûsa is…”  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Outside the flashes of lightning outside at the opening, the cave was in darkness. In a attempt to hide them both despite his injuries, Rûsa had taken the unconscious Túrëo with him behind a rock large enough to cover them both.

“ ** _This is not good. I need to get out of here as quickly as possible with Túrëo...my injuries won’t allow me to fight as good as I normally do...the longer I am here, the higher the risk that I will end up recaptured…_ ** ”

As he instinctly checked on Túrëo, Rûsa became worried at seeing the first signs of fever. The arrow in his leg had caused an infection to start, and if the arrow was not removed soon and the wound treated fast, Túrëo would suffer from gangrene. He had seen in Angband how other slaves had suffered from old injuries that eventually transformed into gangrene, and with the way Túrëo had limped on his right leg, it did not seem like he was getting enough of a good blood flow in his damaged leg.

“Where is he?!”

The shadows on the cave walls revealed that they were coming closer. If he did not do anything fast, he would lose the change to get out of here.

“He has to be here…”

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment, Rûsa mentally laid out the plan. Once he opened his eyes again, he rose to his feet.

“ ** _Looking for me?_ ** ”

“There he is!”

Too late did the exiled Elves realize the mistake in attacking Rûsa when he had the environment to his advantage, and even if he never had been in this cave before, he knew precise how to fight inside different kinds of caves. Once more he revealed the survival and battle skills he had done in Angband to deadly perfection.

“Lord Finyo, get away from him!”

Rûsa ran around in the cave, using the darkness and flashes of lightning to bring up their fears for him. He had became skilled in the game of hide and seek from a very young age in Angband, for it had been a way of survival in childhood.

“As I will let myself be afraid of someone who will be dead soon…?!”

Finyo immediately regretted his boastful words and the fact that he forgot to be on his guard, for Rûsa jumped up in the air and landed on him from the air on purpose. Thanks to Rûsa being so large in height and having a notable musclemass that increased his total body weight, Finyo did not stand a change. There was a sickening sound of bones being broken as they landed on the rough cave floor of stone.

“ **AAAAAAH!** ”

Finyo's right arm and shoulder took most of the inpact in the fall, breaking on contact from the fall and Rûsa's body weight.

“Mother! Mother, he broke my arm!” wailed Finyo between sobs from the pain like the overgrown child he was, while Rûsa got off him. Rûsa did not waste any time. The other Elves was too terrified of him to even dare to try an attack, so he could easily throw the unconscious Túrëo over his shoulder and rush out from the cave.

“ _You dared to harm my poor child, you barbarian!_ ”

As in slow motion, Rûsa heard the sound of a whip behind him. The whip caught around his left foot and made him trip.

“Agh!”

In the fall, he dropped Túrëo who rolled over against a small rock that stopped him. Gasping in pain, for now he started to feel that he had lost a notable amount of blood from the wound he had gotten by the earlier whipping, Rûsa tried his best to defend himself against the whip-lashes that rained down on him.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

When Rûsa tried to get back up on his feet, a snare caught his right hand and a jerk on the rope made that he almost fell over again.

“Toss the rope over that cliff and tie it around something futher away so it restrains his movements!”

With his right arm forced above his head like that and pushed to the mountain side with his back thanks to the few unharmed Elves keeping hold of his left arm and body, Rûsa found it much harder to fight against them. To top if off, a sword hilt hit him straight in the stomach, sending the breath rattling from his lungs.

“You...really are almost more trouble than what you are worth, unholy _child of sin_ …!” hissed Calcanis from where she was coming towards them. She picked up something from her belt as she came close.

“Open his mouth.”

The order reminded Rûsa far too much about when Sauron planned to have him as test subject for a new poison. In quickly growing fear, he tried to get free from the hands that held him still.

“ ** _If you think that you can force a marriage between my sister and your son by killing me and Yuë, you will have to face the consequences of being a Kinslayer with blood on your hands! Your husband only narrowly avoided being stamped as Kinslayer and Kingslayer thanks to lord Elrond saving my maternal family from the poisoning! No one will see the betrothal between Cúwen and Finyo as legal when it is revealed that you plan to kill us all in order to have your son married into the royal family with the highest-ranked female in the line to the throne…!_ ** ”

His jaw was forced open with a painful hold, and then Calcanis forced down a white powder into his mouth. With a strained hiss in cold fury, Rûsa jerked his head back. But the moment he got his face free again, Rûsa felt how his heart started to beat alarming fast and he found it suddenly very difficult to breathe properly.

“Yes, the same yew powder that I used on the nut cookies which I sent to your mother over twenty years ago. It was planned to kill her and her brothers that way, as it is not uncommon for expecting mothers to be given some form of sweets when they are with child, but sadly it did not work as wished. Although...seeing that your mute little freak of a brother clearly was born premature and is very frail as a result, it is better than nothing.”

Rûsa's eyes became wide in horror at those words, and not just because of the yew poison in his body. So their suspicions that it indeed had been she who had poisoned Maedhros and the unborn Yuë at that time, was true! He began to tremble in his whole body as reaction on the poisoning and would have collapsed down on the ground from muscle weakness, had not the rope around his right hand forced him to remain standing up.

“Now, I believe that there is a firstborn of mine who needs to be punished for daring to disobey me…”

Calcanis walked over to where Túrëo laid on the ground. Having woken up from his unconsciousness in the fall, Túrëo tried his best to try crawling away as his injured leg did not allow him to stand up.

“Mother...mother, _please_ …!” Túrëo pleaded in terror as she towered over him. In answer, she coldly raised a hand and two of her unharmed men took hold of Túrëo's arms, holding him in place.

“Cut off his right leg.”

“ ** _No! NO, STOP!!_ ** ” screamed Rûsa in a paniced voice when he saw the sword being lifted and for a moment, it seemed in his mind like that Túrëo was replaced by any other slave in Angband that had been seen as useless for work after a serious injury and would end up executed by the orc guards once it was revealed that they could not work properly anymore.

“Be silent!”

The whip hit Rûsa in the face, dangerously close to his eyes and causing a new bleeding wound on his forehead. Also the breathing difficultly and slow heartbeat from the yew poison was making him close to passing out.

“ **WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SOON** \- **TO** \- **BE HUSBAND!?!** ”

In a flash of lighting, Maeglin was revealed where she was standing on a cliff, her bow ready to shot a arrow straight on Calcanis. It was a cold fury in her black eyes that made her look just like Eöl once had done right before he had been thrown from the cliff of Caragdûr as punishment for killing Aredhel by mistake.

“ ** _Maeglin, you fool...we had a agreement to not...call each other something like that in front of others yet…_ ** ”

Rûsa gasped in pain as he tried to keep his heart keep beating. He needed treatment for the poisoning as quickly as possible if he was not to enter the Halls of Mandos a second time, for Calcanis had given him a much bigger dose of the yew poison than what Maedhros had gotten in her. Maeglin looked ready to kill someone with her bare hands at seeing how Rûsa fought to stay awake. And right behind her, was Oromë standing. A quick look around revealed several of Oromë's Maiar standing on cliffs, all ready to shot their arrows as well.

“ _Calcanis, you are arrested for kidnapping and for nearly unleashing one of the Dark Lord_ _Morgoth's greatest crimes into Arda. If you do not want to end up with arrows in your legs like a hunted deer, step away from your two prisoners and give up! Otherwise I cannot promise you anything..._ ”

The Vala's deep voice was like the thunder in the sky, and the threat far too clear for someone to dare to disobey him. Using the change of surprise since the Elves was so focused on their master, the Maiar was quick to bind Calcanis and the others.

“Rûsa!” cried Maeglin in horror as she ran over to him. However, in just that moment, Rûsa's already slow heartbeat suddenly stopped without warning and his body, still held up only by the rope around his right wrist, became limp as a rag doll as his spirit left his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: And once more, someone from the House of Fingolfin is saving someone from the House of Fëanor from a situation involving being held up with the right arm.


	22. In need of healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Rûsa is brought to healers, Maeglin remembers what once caused her to leave Gondolin in sceret...

“Rûsa!”  
Maeglin felt herself become cold in horror as Rûsa suddenly collapsed, only held up by the rope around his right wrist. Also, the sight of that he was not breathing was very alarming. She hadn't doubted that he would be in danger when she finally found him, but to see him like this…  
“Rûsa! Rûsa, no...please!”  
Using her knife to cut his right arm free from the rope, she then placed him on the ground while trying to not make herself half blinded from crying so hard in fear that she had arrived too late to be able to save him. In the flashes of lightning on the night sky above them, Rûsa's soul-less body looked far too alike how Aredhel and Eöl had looked like in her nightmares during the first years that passed after their deaths only hours after each other. By now, the Avarin warriors had arrived as well.  
“Help Maeglin give Rûsa cardiopulmonary rescue so his heart starts beating again, quickly! I have gotten hold of his _fëa_ , but we cannot move it back into a lifeless body or the shock will be too great!” ordered Sächa, who used her shamanic power to prevent Rûsa's _fëa_ from entering into the Halls of Mandos. The order was followed. By custom, especially after the First Age, all the Avarin Clans insisted on teaching every clan member how to do first aid and especially how to do cardiopulmonary rescue to save the life of another.  
“Carefully, but hurry!”  
Much to their relief, a small pulse started to be seen on Rûsa's neck once they had given him cardiopulmonary rescue after a minute or two.  
“Back inside your _hröa_ with you, reckless brat,” ordered Säsha as she forced Rûsa's _fëa_ back into his body. The sharp inhalation which followed, was a much welcome one. Although it was quickly followed by gasps and moans in pain from him, as the yew poison still was in his body.  
“ _He needs to be freed from the poison. I can focus the poison into one single spot in his body, but I will need Ulmo's help to draw out all of the poison from his body and then Estë's healing to heal him_.”  
Without much trouble, Oromë lifted up Rûsa in his arms and walked over to his steed Nahar. There he carefully set Rûsa in front of his saddle. Nodding towards the half-unconscious Túrëo, who had been lifted upon a stretcher, the Vala then spoke:  
“ _I would gladly take both of them, but right now Rûsa is the one most in need of quickly acting, if I do not hurry the yew poison will claim his life again and he will pass into the Halls of Mandos. There is a limit to how many times cardiopulmonary rescue can make a poison-weakened heart start beating again_.”  
Whispering in Valarin to Nahar, Oromë made himself preparing to ride off and would most likely have done so, had not Rûsa gasped for Maeglin's hand to the point of refusing to let go.  
“...Túrëo and his two brothers...promised them...sanctuary...among the Clans...from their mother Calcanis…” Rûsa whispered in a weak, almost unheard whisper to her as he tried desperately not to faint. Nodding to let him know that she would let the others know about what he had promised,  
“We need to leave now.”  
With that, Oromë rode away with Rûsa.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_“You want to leave Gondolin?”_  
_Turgon's voice was cold as he repeated what Maeglin just had said. Cold like the Grinding Ice where he had lost his beloved wife Elenwë. Yet his sister-daughter refused to bend for his will._  
_“Yes, uncle. You see, next year it will already be one hundred and ten years since I first came here. I truly love Gondolin as a home, but lately it has started to feel like...like I am little less than a bird in a gilded cage, even as the Lady of the House of the Mole. The very city itself sometimes feels like it is closing in around me, giving me a slowly growing feeling of being strangled…so I would like to leave Echoriad. It does not need to be long, uncle, only for a few short days. I know that it is dangerous to be away for too long after what happened 38 years ago...”_  
_Maeglin tried to spoke of her feelings in a mature manner to her uncle so it would not be seen as the complaints of a overgrown child in his eyes, for with her age on one hundred and eighty nine years old, she was still very young by the standards of the Eldar._  
_“No.”_  
_The single word, spoken in a such frostly voice that more than one of the present Elves suddenly felt as if they had been back on the Grinding Ice for a moment, echoed in the throne room. Turgon looked at his sister-daughter with a hard look._  
_“Last time I allowed someone to leave the city, in that case your own mother, she ended up being lost to us and when she finally returned with you, she ended up dead only days after the return! I will not have history repeat itself again!”_  
_Maeglin remained still, although no one would have blamed her if she had taken a step back by the reaction from her uncle._  
_“Don't you dare lay blame on my Adar again for her death! We all knows that it was me he was trying to kill when it became clear that you would not allow him to go back home to Nan Elmoth!”_  
_In her mind, Maeglin could remember Eöl's words as he had spoken on that day:_  
_“I acknowledge not your law. No right have you or any of your kin in this land to seize realms or to set bounds, either here or there. This is the land of the Teleri, to which you bring war and all unquiet, dealing ever proudly and unjustly. I care nothing for your secrets and I came not to spy upon you, but to claim my own: my wife and my daughter. Yet if in Aredhel your sister you have some claim, then let her remain; let the bird go back to the cage, where soon she will sicken again, as she sickened before.”_  
_It seemed like the mention of Eöl had struck a very sensitive nerve in Turgon, for now he rose to his feet from his throne in cold fury and said in a dangerous voice:_  
_“Do not speak of that accursed forest or the Dark Elf who sired you around me, Maeglin Lómiel! Even if they were married, they did not follow the Laws and Customs of the Eldar in their behaviour, nor did they give you a upbringing worthy that of a Noldorin royal princess!”_  
_His harsh words was like a heavy hammer falling down hard on Maeglin's memories of Eöl's tender side as her father and husband to her mother, how he had thaught her to be a blacksmith, many other small yet other important moments where he had been a loving father to her._  
_“My Lord, princess Maeglin, please…” pleaded Rog nervously from where he was standing, trying to prevent them from doing something that could seriously damage their relationship. Despite his best efforts, Turgon had always been a bit distant from his niece and thanks to being affected by his grandmother Indis' Vanyarin ways, he could be very narrow-minded at times and therefore tried to reshape Maeglin into something that she was not at all. The action of making her the Lady of the House of the Mole had mostly been to give Maeglin some more responsibility after coming of age._  
_“How dare you...YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT MY FATHER, UNCLE!! DO NOT THINK THAT YOUR HANDS ARE CLEAN OF HIS BLOOD: EVEN IF YOU WERE NOT AMONG THEM WHO PERSONALLY THREW HIM DOWN TO HIS DEATH, YOU WERE STILL THE ONE WHO GAVE THE ORDER ABOUT IT!!”_  
_Those words had ended up being the start of a furious screaming match between Turgon and Maeglin. Despite others trying to stop them, the pride of two self-confident persons had been hurt: Turgon, both as the ruler of Gondolin and as the head of the royal family in Gondolin; Maeglin, in the sacred memories of Eöl not being the monster people saw him as._  
_“I AM NOT MY MOTHER, UNCLE!! IF I NOW AM NOT ALLOWED TO LEAVE GONDOLIN BY A SUCH SMALL REQUEST I JUST MADE, THEN WHY HAVE YOU NEVER LEFT GONDOLIN EVER SINCE UNCLE FINGON WAS KILLED IN BATTLE AND YOU BECAME THE HIGH KING!? IS THE NOLDORIN CROWN JUST A FANCY TITLE FOR YOU, WHILE YOU KEEP YOURSELF AND EVERYONE ELSE HERE IN GONDOLIN SHUT INTO A GILDED CAGE MASKED AS A STRONGHOLD?!”_  
_That had been the last sight of Maeglin before her over three months long disappearance, as she was storming out from the throne room in angry tears while Turgon ordered her to stay as he had not allowed her to leave yet._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maedhros had been unable to go back to sleep. While Rog managed to make her remain in bed, she could not stop worrying. It was a simple mother instinct that told her that something had happened to her firstborn. The fear for her younger children were there as well.  
“Something has changed, right? I sense it too in the air…”  
Formenos was too far away for them to have sensed the aura of the Warg Rider rewakening, but if they had done it, both they and other survivors of the First Age would have recognized it right away. How could they not, when they had actually been fighting against Rûsa in the great battles of the First Age? Maybe not exactly face to face, but they still knew it.  
“Yes...hm?”  
A large shadow fell over Formenos. Revealing itself to be one of Manwë's Great Eagles, it landed in the main square with some difficulties thanks to its massive sides.  
“What on…”  
Rog barely had time to toss a morning robe on her for decency's sake before Maedhros ran downstairs. Maedhros did not bother with getting shoes on her feet as she hurried outside, Rog on her heels if she happened to trip.  
“ _The Lord of Lorien requests that you come to his Gardens_.”  
The eagle did not give any more information, but it was clear that something must have happened for them to be called there.  
“Just allow us first to tell our family where we will go, or they will be worried in the morning.”  
Naturally, Fëanor and Nerdanel were not that fond of being woken up in the middle of the night by hearing someone banging on the front door. But once it was revealed to be their law-son Rog, and given a explanation for what happened now in the middle of the night, they promised that they would follow as soon as they could in the morning when everyone else in the family had woken up as well.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Pain. Pain everywhere in his body, from both his injuries and the yew poison. And voices he did not know. He heard them speak in a unknown language, one which sounded more like music than speech.  
“ _Are his parents here soon?_ ”  
“ _Yes. I would not be surprised if half the Noldorin royal family arrives here once they hear what has happened…_ ”  
“ _If there is something that really can ally them no matter what it would be any sign of someone trying to get rid of a family member._ ”  
“ _True. The horrors of the First Age have shown them just how important family really is and how much stronger they are together as a unit._ ”  
“ _He is waking up_!”  
Rûsa felt a minor panic when he slowly realized that he could not see anything. Something was bound around his eyes: a blindfold? Whatever it was, it was tied very thightly around his head and covering his eyes in a manner that kept them shut. Yet it also reminded him too much about when Sauron would try and frighten him with not letting him see anything.  
“Easy, sweetheart, easy. Do not panic or your wounds will reopen if you move around.”  
His ammë? What was she doing here? Rûsa felt a hand gently press down on one of his own hands and he let out a breath he had not known that he had been holding in, relaxing a bit.  
“Ammë?” he whispered faintly in disbelief, as if he could not quite believe that she was actually there.  
“Yes, sweetie. I am here, along with Rog. You are in the Gardens of Lórien; you have been sleeping in a very deep healing sleep for at least two days since Oromë brought you here. And yes, Cúwen and Yuë is here as well; they arrived a couple of hours after you, seeing that you were the one in the most need of healing,” answered Maedhros in a warm voice while she touched the face of her oldest son. Rûsa slightly moved on his head at the touch.  
“I can't open my eyes…”  
This time, it was Rog who answered:  
“Your sight was affected by the yew posion. They need to rest, that is why you have a bandage around your head. You will need to wear it for a couple of weeks and allow your eyes to get used to light again. You were lucky that you did not become blind by the poison.”  
Rûsa sighed at hearing that.  
“I will openly admit that I was careless. I should have gotten help from the Mountain clan, but I was too worried for Cúwen and Yuë...hey! Don't ruffle my hair like that! You know that it will look like a bird nest afterwards!” Rûsa protested when he felt Rog's hand in his hair. His stepfather merely chuckled in response.  
“You would not be a second-generation Fëanorian otherwise, Rûsa. Unlike what people insist on, that you and my kids will follow the same path as the Sons of Finwë did back in the Years of the Trees, you really care for them as their older brother...”  
“ ** _BIG BROTHER!_** ”  
Rûsa barely had make to groan at the sudden sound, before he felt two new weights on himself at the legs.  
“Hey, you two, take it easily now with him. Your brother needs his rest, so please be careful.”  
Rog and Maedhros picked up one of their children each from the bed, holding the Elflings in their laps instead even if it was a little more trickly for Maedhros thanks to her pregnancy.  
“Are you all right, brother? We were very worried for you.”  
He felt Cúwen's curly hair against his cheek as she spoke, she must be having it loose.  
“As good as one can be after waking up after two days of healing sleep, likely. But I do not think I will be able to leave bed for a while, and as you probably have heard about my eyes needing to heal.”  
_We were so worried when we had to leave you behind, big brother…_  
Blindly, Rûsa tried to find Yuë with his right hand so he could touch him. He was sure on that his little brother tried really hard not to start crying in front of everyone at the moment. but would fail soon enough. Both Cúwen and Yuë were brave in their own ways, but they were most likely very shaken up by the kidnapping and would no doubt be a bit extra clingy for the next few days now that they finally were back with their parents.  
“ _Excuse me. My lord Irmo asked me to tell you that visit time is over and the prince needs his rest if he is to recover,_ ” declared a hooded Maia carefully from the door. Nodding, Maedhros carefully put her daughter down on the floor while Rog picked up Yuë in his arms.  
“We will be back soon, honey. Until then, try and sleep for a while,” suggested Maedhros and kissed her oldest son on the forehead. Rûsa nodded weakly. He had only been awake for a couple of minutes, but he felt how tired he already was after this short talking with his family and would not mind sleeping again for a while.  
“Think that Taurion will show up here soon as well?” asked Rog in a quiet voice to Maedhros as he held op the door for her  
“Knowing him rather well after all those years as we has become close friends, yes.”  
That was the last thing Rûsa heard, before he fell back into sleep on the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: As the flashback shows, there is a limit to how long someone can actually stand to live in a golden cage like Gondolin, especially if they has been living a different life before coming to that place. Given Maeglin’s youth at the time she was captured and brought to Angband, it should not be that strange that she wanted to see more of the world. Also, I imagine that Maeglin’s relationship with Turgon was a somewhat distant one, tainted by the events in which Aredhel and Eöl died, since in this AU Maeglin was close to Eöl in a special way as fellow blacksmiths sharing a kinship when she was younger.


	23. Slow healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things heals slowly

The next time Rûsa awoke, he was more prepared on the surprise of the bandage around his eyes. While he could not see, he sensed that it must be morning.

“Good morning, honey. I hope that you slept well,” greeted Maedhros as she entered the healing chamber, trying to find some balance with the breakfast tray she was carrying because of her pregnancy. Rûsa carefully rolled over to his back at the sound of her voice; he had no wish of rolling down on the floor from the bed by mistake just because he could not see for the time being. Also, his right shoulder was still in a sling in order to let it rest.  

“Yes. Are the others still asleep?” he asked and tried his best to not rub his eyes out of habit, he did not want to make things worse by mistake.

“Sleeping like rocks in the big bed which Rog and I was given in a guest chamber, both of them. Wanted to sleep close to us, which we could not refuse. They are needing the safety of being close to their family.”  

Rûsa made a small laugh, fondly remembering how he sometimes tended to wake up in the morning and finding both of his half-siblings sleeping on top of him, having somehow managed to climb up in his bed without waking him up. Well, he tended to be a rather heavy sleeper nowadays since his rebirth and knowing that it neither Morgoth or Sauron was around to cause him harm anymore, so it was really no wonder that he could be taken by surprise by them at times.

“Open up, honey. I know that you can eat by yourself, but it is less messy if you gets some help while your eyes recover,” requested Maedhros as she picked up one of the sandwiches, cut in small pieces to make it easier for him to eat. Feeling how weak his body still was after the yew poisoning despite nearly three whole days and nights of healing sleep, Rûsa did as she asked. In situations like this, it was no use in compaining about it and simply do as one was told to do. Besides, it gave him a chance to have a private moment with his mother.

“Has ada Taurion arrived yet?”

“Not yet, but I will not be surprised if he arrives just at the same time as the rest of the family.”

Rûsa laughed softly. If it was one thing that really surprised non-Avarin Elves, it was how protective Taurion could be of all his seventeen children and not just his two daughters he had with his legal wife Atara. Or as Taurion tended to say:

“ _I am the reason to why those fifteen illegitimate offspring of mine even was begotten in the first place and thus I see it as_ _my_ _responsibility to ensure that they are not outcasts from other people simply because of the circumstances when I fathered them!_ ”

“Really, is it so hard to imagine that there are former slaves in Angband who is the parent of several children with different partners? It is not too strange if one looks at how things turned out with great-grandfather Finwë and his two wives!” commented Rûsa before drinking some tea. Maedhros smiled in memory of how Taurion had a habit of saying the same things when people insulted his eight sons and seven daughters who was not born from Atara.

“That is a good question, indeed.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In the Mountain Clan camp, Maeglin had just finished her own breakfast when she saw several of the clan healers rushing back and forth between two tents.

“What is going on?” she asked to one healer as he passed by.

“Túrëo has gotten gangrene, most likely a reaction from the arrow's poison that he was hit with. We need to make an amputation below his right knee in order to prevent it from spreading to the rest of his leg.”

Maeglin paled in horror at hearing that. It was not good news, given that the three brothers had been given temporary living in the Mountain Clan thanks to Rûsa's promise until they knew what the Valar had chosen for them. A such promise about protection was always taken seriously by the Avarin Clans, and it was been as dishonest if they did not honor a such promise even if it had been given by someone else from the start.

“Have Vórimo and Almo gotten words about it?” Maeglin could only whisper, having lost her appetite at hearing that had happen.

“Yes, that was our first action when we saw what had happened, the family members has a right to know.”

The healer hurried back to the tent where his skills was needed. An amputation requested the help of several people because of how difficult a such operation was to do. Eöl, who had also stopped to eat at the news, put down his mug of water on the ground.

“If he survives the shock that his body might get from the amputation, then Túrëo will need a metal leg as it would be a bit difficult to fix a new leg for him in his body. I will be visiting my Dwarf friends for a couple of days, they should know enough of this problem with how things could be for their surviving soldiers after a big battle back in Middle-earth.”

Maeglin nodded in understanding to what her father meant. Depending on what it was, the Dwarves actually had knowledge which the Elves sometimes lacked despite their immortal life-span.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_It was the first time Maedhros would meet Fingon's betrothed face-to-face. Of course, her cousin had sent descriptions and even a simple miniature portrait of her in his letters, and if Maedhros had something to say, it was that Rilel was a lovely-looking she-elf. Maybe not of the most high-ranking noble lineage among the Teleri, but then again, her own mother Nerdanel had been a commoner while Fëanor had been the Crown prince so she was not exactly in a position to talk about someone not being of enough high status to marry her cousin._

_“Nelyo. This is my dear Rilel from lord Cirdan's people. Beloved, my cousin Maedhros.”_

_“Nice to meet you, my lady.”_

_“The same, lady Rilel.”_

_Rilel was a lovely brunette, just as Fingon had said in the letters. As for his warnings in worry that people might claim that he had fallen in love with her because of that she was somewhat similiar-looking to Maedhros, well...it was more of a chestnut brown colour rather than the copper-red colour Maedhros had, and the only real similarity between Maedhros and Rilel was the heart-shaped face and grey eyes, although Rilel had more of a deep blue hint in her eyes than the silver-grey Maedhros had. Also, while Rilel indeed was tall for a she-elf, she was the same height as Fingon himself, far from the 205 cm that Maedhros had in height._

_“Finno, I think you exaggerated in your worry that people would think you are in love with Rilel because she is a bit like me in appearance before my captivity. Had you perhaps met her before the Darkening, it might have added some wood to the fire in the false rumours about us, but now? Not so much.”_

_Maedhros knew that not everyone believed in that a male and female could have a close friendship without any deeper meaning, especially those people who claimed that she was Fingon's unofficial concubine in exchange that she and her brothers had gotten their own territories to govern after that she had given up the crown to her uncle: rumours that Fingolfin had ordered his oldest son to help him keep control over his Fëanorian cousins by bedding Maedhros, her being the only female among the seven children Fëanor had sired._

_“Lady Maedhros? Forgive me if I am being blunt, but please let me get this straight from the start: I_ _do not believe_ _in the horrible rumours that my soon-to-be law-father Fingolfin would do something such scandalously as commanding Fingon to keep you as a hidden mistress in order to blackmail your family into not reclaiming the Kingship. Not only would it be a terrible treatment of his own family members, but to openly dishonor a former High Queen like that...no, whoever it is that says those things about Fingon and yourself, they really are being really inmmature to attempt to drag your honor in the dirt,” said Rilel in a serious voice and Maedhros drew a sharp breath of relief at those words, for despite not showing it in public she was deeply disgusted by the rumours that she had a sexual relationship with Fingon. While it was not known that she had given birth to her poor son in Angband and lost him right after the birth, it was a open secret that she was barren. That alone, was a ideal toy for rumour-mongers to use when they claimed a illegal relationship between the only daughter of Fëanor and the oldest son of Fingolfin, for with Maedhros being barren she would be unable to give Fingon a illegitimate child that could threaten his legal children with a lawful wife in claiming the Kingship of the exiled Noldor._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In Tirion, Finwë and his two younger sons had just gotten the news about how things had went in the kidnappning and the resuce.

“ **Calcanis tried to not only kill Russafinwë after poisoning him, but even** **_her own oldest son_ ** **?!** ” Finarfin whispered in horror, holding both hands over his mouth as a sign of how horrified he was. Even if he had been a leader in the War of Wrath, Finarfin was still a pacifist by heart and while far from a weakling, there was simply some things that he never would be able to stomach. To show his understanding, Fingolfin placed a hand on his golden-haired brother's shoulder.

“ _Yes, my lord. From the way she was screaming and cursing as she was led away, her three oldest sons did not agree at all with their mother about the kidnapping and had tried to help your three great-grandchildren to escape from the cave where they had been held,_ ” answered one of Oromë's Maiar, who had gotten the task of telling what had happened to the Noldorin royal family. Finwë signed and held a hand for his forehead in a sign of fatigue.

“Please tell the Valar that I wish for Calcanis to be punished in a such manner that people are discouraged from doing any similar attempts to harm the children of my oldest granddaughter, princess Nelyafinwë. This murder attempt on my great-grandson will be the final end to the growing list of horrible things that has happened to my oldest son and his family.”

Finwë did not hide his anger in how dangerously cold he spoke. He was not the only one in his family had reached a final limit wih the current events. It was true that many Elves still did not like or trusted the House of Fëanor because of the events from the Years of the Trees and First age, but there was a seriously thin limit to how much it would be allowed before it looked like someone was dragging out a grudge for a rather stupid-looking reason. Not even Thingol and his family tried that anymore, not after a rather difficultly made apology which Maedhros and her six brothers had done in private to them.

“ _As you wish, High King of the Noldor._ ”

When the Maia turned around to leave, Fingolfin called after him:

“And please warn lord Irmo that most of us are very likely to hurry to the Gardens of Lorien to check on how Rûsa is doing!”

The Maia smiled a knowing smile, as if he actually had been expecting that kind of words, before leaving the throne room.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in the Gardens, Rûsa rested in the bed where he could hear Rog waiting in the other end of the room with his half-siblings so he would not feel too worried about them. Even if Yuë was mute, he could use different sounds to stand for words, thus match Cúwen's talking.

“I think that, even if they risked so much by helping us, Túrëo, Vórimo and Almo were still very brave. Do you not think so too, Yuë?”

Several tappings on the floor with something, some slowly-made ones and others quickly made, told them that Yuë did agree. Rûsa smiled faintly at the sound. He might not be able to really hide his past as the Warg Rider forever from Cúwen and Yuë, but for now, he had managed to avoid a scene where they had came to see his secret.

“Knowing how seriously the Clans takes any request to give another person sanctuary, I would not be too surprised if you will see those three brothers again one day.” said Rog while he looked towards his stepson for a quick look in case he needed some help. Even if only Cúwen's cheering could be heard, Rûsa did not doubt that the words made Yuë happy as well.

“Finyo better not have hurt you two in some way before I arrived, or I swear that I will break his other arm, temporarily blind or not...that ill-behaved, impudent son of a female orc…!” Rûsa growled softly in anger to himself in the bastardized Quenya-Sindarin mix which once had been spoken in Angband, only to be hit lightly in the head with a small pillow Rog tossed at him.  

“Mind your language around your brother and sister, Russafinwë.”

Cúwen and Yuë looked oddly at their older brother, sharing a wondering look about what kind of language he just had spoken. On the other hand, they were not unfamiliar with the fact that Rûsa was viewed sightly differently than themselves for seveal reasons the grown-ups was not too comfortable to speak about with them yet. Or, as Maedhros once had told them:

“ _It is not that we want to keep you two out of this secret about your older brother, we just worry that your young age might make it difficult for you to really understand why he is so different._ ”

Seeing it from that point, they could hardly blame their parents for doing so. After all, adults knew so much more than what they did.

“All right, you two. We have been in here long enough, your brother needs some more rest.”

Rûsa did not really want them to leave, but he knew that Rog had a point about that he needed to rest.

“We will bring you some tea and cookies later, brother!” promised Cúwen from the door before she left, helping Yuë to carry out the game they had been playing with their father. Rûsa waved slightly with a hand as response.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

A couple of long and very tense hours later, Vórimo and Almo got the news that Túrëo had survived the amputation so far.

“It went well, but it will be a long way of recovery for your oldest brother. Not only will he be weak for a long time from this operation, it will take long time before he is strong enough to live a normal life. Or at least, a so normal life as he will be able to have after getting a prosthetic leg that lord Eöl will fix with the Dwarves,” explained one of the healers who had done the amputation on Túrëo earlier.  

The two younger brothers looked looked uncertainly at each other, Almo holding Qucha's hand for mental support from his wife.

“...is there something we can do for him?”

“Support him in whatever you can, simply **_be there_ ** for him. Events like this are very difficult in both body and mind, and it is not wise to let him think that he never will become better again. If he feels down, remind him that princess Nelyafinwë survived a similar amputation once, and that while being more dead than alive at the time!” was all the healer gave them as answer. He was blunt and very direct about how things likely would be for Túrëo from now on, something that the Avarin Elves took pride in. Nodding in understanding, the two brothers allowed the healer to take them to the tent where Túrëo still laid in deep sleep from the anesthesia he had gotten before the amputation operation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Come on, who can NOT imagine such rumours be around Fingon and Maedhros, especially if one of them were female? Their friendship clearly must have been well-known even in Valinor before the Darkening, but how often does not people also think that it must be a more sexual depth in a friendship between a man and woman? Also, remember that not all the Noldor who survived the Grinding Ice might be too happy with the Fëanorians; spreading rumours about Maedhros being a secret concubine to Fingon could be their attempt of unseen revenge and humiliate the Fëanorians even more after that Maedhros gave up the Kingship to Fingolfin


	24. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calcanis trial is happening

It was now seven days since the rescue, and the day when Calcanis would be given her trial. The Valar had been given testimony about her action with some help from their Maiar, so neither one of her three oldest sons or Maedhros' three children would have to face her again.

“ _You let Calcanis and the others see you as the Warg Rider?!_ By the power of the All-Father...Russafinwë Arion Ceuraquen Nelyafinwion, you **_know_ ** better than anyone what kind of fatal mistake that would be had someone of them actually managed to escape! How your life here in Aman would be destroyed the moment people learnt about your real past?”

The icy tone in Maedhros' voice, filled with fear, anxiety and downright disappointment, made Rûsa almost wish that she actually had slapped or at least screamed at him. His mother never used violene against him, but in times like this, it could happen that he secretly wished for it just to get an even more clear image of her feelings over his actions. Taurion, who had arrived to the Gardens with nearly half the Wood clan behind him three days earlier, nodded in agreement to what Maedhros said.

“Your mother is right, Rûsa. You did have a very good reason for returning into the Warg Rider for a short while, but on the same time, it was dangerous.”

Rûsa had lowered his head so his face was hidden by his hair in shame. Had it not been for the bandage around his eyes, he would have started to cry. His hands were shaking in their tight hold on the white quilt as he whispered faintly:

“S-something inside me snapped...and...and the thought of what might happen...to the w-whole family if something happened to us…”

Once again, he mentally cursed fow how hopeless he could be with words or explain himself, thanks to his first life in Angband. Even after living nearly a hundred years here in Aman, his social skills tended to come noticeably lacking the moment he had to spend time among the upper social classes. Socially awkward was something that many of his friends could call him without it being a insult given how true it actually was.

“Sweetheart, we know the truth. You would never allow yourself to return into the Warg Warger just to hurt people for pleasure or something else that the Dark Lords tried to bend you into.”

Rûsa felt Maedhros lay her hands on his shoulders, and he allowed himself to weep at the touch.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the Ring of Doom, the Valar had just shown up at their thrones.

“ _Bring forth the accused._ ”

Two Maiar dragged forth Calcanis, not too gentle, and forced her to kneel in the middle of the ring. Finyo and her captured men was then placed at the side of the ring, as it was Calcanis who was the mastermind.

“ _Calcanis, you have been brought here because of your crimes against the House of Princess Nelyafinwë…_ ”

As Manwë listed each one of her crimes, Calcanis refused to remain still or quiet. Stuggling against the two Maiar who held her in place, she nearly yelled in anger:

“If it is someone who is guilty to the start of all this, then it is the House of Fëanor! They chose my innocent husband Nárion as the set-up criminal in their fraud to appear as innocent victims of an attempted murder because of that shameless whore of a princess ended their relationship back in the Years of the Trees! She has the nerve of claiming that _child of sin_ of hers was born from a legal marriage when everyone knows that she was the bed-whore of Prince  Findekáno back in the First Age…!”

Ulmo, who remembered overhearing the Exiles spreading those untruthful rumours about Maedhros and Fingon in a very immature way of getting revenge on her father, was quick to put a temporary end of Calcanis' rant by dropping a quick wave made of rain water over her.

“ _Your husband was guilty of his crime and paid lawfully for it. And you are only repeating old lies that you have twisted into a fitting truth for yourself and giving yourself a reason to harm innocent people. The All-Father Himself has forgiven the House of Fëanor for their deeds in the First Age and thus they earned a right to be reborn. Their children should not be blamed for what their parents once did, they do not inherit the sins of the past,_ ” spoke Námo in a demissing voice, he had heard similiar rants from dead Elves in his Halls and theremore had made it into a habit to stop listening the moment he spotted that it was going to be yet another complaint against the members of the House of Fëanor.

“What?! How can you claim that their unholy brats to offspring are not tainted by their horrible crimes against their own kin! Everyone knows that Fëanor caused his own mother Miriel to die…!”

“The energy meant for several children all went into my son because I **_wanted_ ** him to outshine everyone else, I wished for Finwë to have a powerful son in both body and soul because of how much I loved the idea of giving him a child born from our love. I was not expecting how much it would cost myself. And my grandchildren all ended up paying a very high price for trying to follow the Oath they swore with their father, unaware of what it would bring them to do. The same for my two older great-grandsons.”

Fëanor's mother Miriel had shown up behind the throne where Námo was seated. There was a cold fury in her silver-grey eyes as she spoke, a wish to protect the good name of her only son and his family. Even if she had not been around since she had entered the Halls of Mandos back in the Years of the Trees, Miriel still remembered too well the pain and sorrow of having to see her seven grandchildren destroy themselves in trying to honor their promise to ther father.

“If you just had not given birth to that lunatic pyromaniac in the first place, nothing of all the horrible things he and his seven brats did would have happened...!”

 

_Slap!_

Out of the blue, Miriel suddenly walked over and gave Calcanis a slap which stunned Calcanis. None of the Valar showed big surprise over it, since Calcanis had crossed a thin line twice by insulting Fëanor in front of his very own mother.

“ **You knows** **nothing** **of the pain and grief they carried in their hearts. How much they nearly entered into madness because of that they were trying to fullfil the Oath my son swore with them! Do you know how my granddaughter suffered by those horrible rumours claiming that she was the concubine to her own cousin, how it pained my grandsons to hear people talk about their sister as if she was some sort of barren bitch in heat who used her body to gain them some kind of power?!** ”

“I-it is their own fault for being monsters…”

Calcanis made an attempt to back away, but the Maiar held her in place while allowing Miriel to grab hold of Calcanis' clothing to bring her closer to her own face.

“ ** _Their own fault?_** ** _Their own fault_** ** _!? You claim that they are immoral monsters from birth, when all they originally did was to try and show their support for their father, my own son. Do you know what it's like to lose your entire family, watching nearly all of them die without being able to do anything to stop it from happening? Seeing them become outcasts among their entire race? That is exactly what I saw happening to my seven grandchildren back in the First Age, and none of them are as big a loser as you are. So you've lost a lot; your husband, your social standing and the chance of having your favorite son married into the royal family. So sad to hear that._** **_But have you ever sacrificed anything? Or do you just think your youngest son deserves everything outright? That's like a little baby whining for toys he can't have. You think your son is special, but he really is not. There are uncounted millions like him all through the universe. I've seen your kind of personality and kind of motherhood before. The only difference is that you try so hard to have just a bit more power than most. You are upset over the loss of your husband and you just want to lash out. You want to make other people suffer because, just for a moment, it distracts you from your own pain. And you do not care what happens when you do. You do not care when other parents lose children, children lose parents, sisters lose brothers and sisters lose brothers. No. In your mind, Finyo is the only one of your four sons that matters. You tried to turn your own children into your pawns, the agents of your vengeance. You never paid the three eldest of them attention for very long. You once loved them, but only so long as they did what you wanted, and when they finally chose to break out from the pains you had put them into, you tried to kill them for not becoming what you hoped for. And that is not love. You call yourself a loving mother? You are not even fit to be a person. And now you know it._** ”

Letting go of Calcanis, Miriel turned around to glare at Finyo and snorted in dislike over how pathetic he was when he tried to get over to his mother. Really, did he truly believe his mother's lies that Cúwen would fall in love with him when he had such a vain and arrogant personality that it was far more likely that Cúwen would seriously dislike him instead?

“ _Thank you for adding in a couple of points about your hot-blooded son and his family, lady Miriel. Could not have said it better myself,_ ” Vairë said without any sign of giving the former Noldorin queen some kind of punishment for slapping Calcanis. Whispers of similar agreements came from the other Valar. Once Miriel had left the Ring of Doom again, Námo nodded to the other Valar as signal to that he would reveal what judgement Calcanis would be given for her crimes:

“ _Calcanis, your chosen judgement is to lose your eternal life and be locked in an eternal cycle of rebirth as a mortal woman among the Second-born. Your youngest son Finyo will have the same fate, never to find you in your new lives! Your men shall live the life of mortal Men for one Age, and then remain locked inside the Halls of Mandos until the Final Battle._

As soon as Manwë had spoken those words, a change was seen in Calcanis. She lost the glow every Eldar had, her brown hair quickly turned white and her sagging skin became covered in multiple wrinkles and marks, noticeably on her hands, arms and face, and she now bore many signs of old age. Her thinning hair, while still possessing the soft curls she had, was dull and had lost its volume, a combination of white and pale gray in colour. Calcanis' veins became especially prominent in her hands and wrists, like most elderly people, and she got several bumps and other marks on her face. As a finishing mockery of her life-long vanity her nails changed into becoming thin and looking far from healthy.

“Ammë, ammë!” screamed a horrified Finyo in terror as he too lost his youngful appearance, watching how his hands transformed into those of a old man.

“No...no, no, no, no!! I will not tolerate this! _I WILL NOT_ …!”

But it was too late, every single one of the convicted Elves were already vanishing from the Ring of Doom like ghosts in the wind. Then, once they all had vanished, Manwë spoke:

“ _Let it become known in all of Aman what Calcanis brought upon herself and that the same fate awaits anyone who tries the same crime as her._ ”

From the way he talked in a such voice, it was crystal clear that he was being dead serious.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In the Mountain clan camp, Túrëo moved on his head at the sound of footsteps coming closer to the bed where he was.

“Who is it?” he whispered in a faint voice, watching the shadow move behind the curtain that blocked out his sickbed from the rest of the tent in order to give him some privacy during recovery.

“Túrëo, I have just been given the news about your mother's trial by a Maia who was present there.”

It was Morwe, the clan leader of the Mountain clan.

“What was her judgement?”

Neither Túrëo, Vórimo or Almo had doubted for a single moment that their mother Calcanis would be punished severely for what she had done. After all, kidnapping and trying to kill three members of the royal family was not something that could be ignored.

“She was convicted on all points of her crime and sentenced to become trapped in an eternal cycle of death and rebirth as a mortal Second-born woman, never to enter the Halls of Mandos or become reunited with your father. Your youngest brother Finyo was sentenced to the same fate, never to find the mother who has loved and favored him over her three older sons.”

Túrëo did not say anything as he listened on what Morwe told him. Somehow, it felt like a very fitting punishment, given what could have happened if her plan actually had succeeded.

“Did the Valar mention anything about me and my two brothers? We may have escaped from our mother, but we still did not stop her from kidnapping the two younger children of princess Nelyafinwë…”

There were no way they could escape some sort of punishment, that much was for sure.  

“Given that princess Cúwen and prince Yuë told the Valar about your change of heart when your mother went too far, along with the fact Almo is married to one of our clan and how your father managed to remain present in your minds long after his own death, the punishment for you was less harsh. However, it was only by the children's pleading and prince Rûsa's promise of protection among the Clans for you three that you still are allowed to walk around free. You will be closely guarded for the next one-hundred years and you will also be given a special kind of tattoo that reveals that you are still free only by the pleading for mercy of three members from the House of Fëanor. During those one-hundred years, you shall also be given new identities as Avari Elves as proof on that Calcanis lost her rights to be a mother to you three.”

Túrëo sighed deeply as he listened.

“I understand. Well, I do not blame neither my maternal or paternal grandparents for following prince Fëanor in exile to Middle-Earth after the Darkening and being four of the Elves who died in the Fall of Gondolin. Neither my mother or father wanted to leave Valinor for different reasons: my father Nárion were still bitter over that princess Nelyafinwë had rejected him in front of the whole royal court and mother Calcanis refused to believe my maternal grandparents' words that they really was going to leave Valinor. As for my paternal grandparents...well, they had grown in disillusion about the Valar when they allowed Morgoth to mess up with High King Finwë's two oldest sons and longed for their reasonable less worrying life before Morgoth was allowed free again after three Ages of imprisonment.”

Morwe nodded to the tattoo-master of the Mountain clan to come forwards and sit down beside him. Túrëo, Vórimo and Almo were going to be tattooed on their left hand with the eight-rayed star of the House of Fëanor as an eternal reminder that they owned their current freedom to three members of that House.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In the Gardens, Rûsa had been brought outside in the sunlight coming from the twillight and gotten the bandage removed from his eyes by Estë.

“How does it look, my lady?” he asked with some concern in his voice. He felt a pair of fingers gently move along his cheek to calm him.

“ _It is looking good. You can slip the bandage now, but you will still be temporarily blind for a couple of days more as your eyes starts reacting to the light again. With some luck, you will have regained your full sight within ten or so days._ ”

“Thank you for your help, my lady.”

Estë smiled and helped him drink some water before she left him alone on the stone bench for a while. There was no harm in letting Rûsa enjoy some of the twillight sun before he had to go back inside again.

“Rûsa?”

New footsteps, which Rûsa knew very well after the last twenty years.

“Maeglin? Where are you, I still have not regained my sight yet…”  

Instinctly now when he could not see, he searched for her with his hands and a pair of smaller, yet work-hard hands caught his left hand.

“Do you know when you will be able to see again.”

“Most likely having my full sight back in ten days, going slowly to get used to see light again.”

Even if he did not see it right now, Rûsa could imagine Maeglin smile in relief at hearing those news. Being permanently blind would have been a small price to pay for his siblings' safety and getting them away from Calcanis, had not been for the not-so-small fact that Elves were immortal.

“I just got the message that some of the rest of our big family will arrive here soon.”

“Great, as if half the family is not already here to visit me,” Rûsa joked with a small laugh, and Maeglin laughed in agreement as she had seen both Taurion and nearly all of his children around earlier. No matter which side of the family, Rûsa did have a big family and lots of close relatives in some way. Coming closer to him, Maeglin gently kissed Rûsa on the forehead, often taking a chance to do so when he sat down because of the height difference of twenty centimeters between them.

“I am glad that you are unharmed, Rûsa. If something had happened to you...Calcanis would have seen the more dangerous side of me.”

“Given that you managed to take down and kill about ten orcs, despite only having very little training that Rog had given you in secret behind your uncle's back before he learned about it and forbade Rog from teaching you anymore or you both would lose your rank and Lord and Lady of your Houses, before the rest of them captured you and brought you to Angband? I trust in that. And even a female blacksmith does have some muscles even if she is a bit on the skinny side,” Rûsa thought as he got a light push in the arm from Maeglin for something he had said.

“Says the overgrown beanstalk you are nowadays. I remember rather well how skinny you were in Angband despite your skills in survival and battle there,” Maeglin remarked before giving him a kiss on the cheek. Rûsa knew a good comeback when he heard one and did not protest, feeling very happy in his heart at the kiss he was given by her.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Ceuraquen means Renewed Person in Quenya, so I felt that a such name would fit Rûsa as a sign of that he is a new person now in contrast to how he was in the First Age as the Warg Rider. Morwe is a Avari name found on the Middle-Earth Role-play page about the Avari elves


	25. Coming-of-age ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A step into the life of a adult

Two months had now passed since the rescue and the time had finally came for Rûsa's coming-of-age ceremony. Maedhros had, in all her heavily pregnant glory, given orders that her oldest son would not have to go though a full Noldorin coming-of-age ceremony, or in her own words:

“ _He has enough trouble already with being fourth-in-line to the throne as my son and the former Warg Rider at the same time! No, give him the basic ceremony and then let him enjoy some freedom with the coming-of-age hunt that the Avari Clans have!_ ”

That logic had been very difficult to not disagree with, given that the whole Noldorin royal family knew the truth about his past.

“Brother! Brother, wake up!”

Rûsa had barely heard the voice of his sister, before he suddenly got no less than three rather heavy body weights around and on top of him.

“Uff! Get off my stomach…!” he gasped in pain from getting a knee right in said body part.

“Sorry, Rûsa,” Frëja apologized and got off him. Yuë had gotten the best place at his older brother's head and gave Cúwen a warning glare from trying to take that spot from him. Laying his head back on the pillow, Rûsa removed some of the hair from his face so he could see them better.

“What are the three of you doing?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, mentally wondering how his two siblings had managed to get Frëja out from her room in the guest wing without waking up Celebrimbor and Narvi who slept in the room beside hers. And Frëja tended to walk a little more loudly than pure-blood Elves thanks to being half-Dwarf, so it was pretty natural that she would cause more loud noises when walking.

“Waking you up, of course! Have you forgotten what day it is today?”

Rûsa had not forgotten, but he had not expected to be awakened in this manner when the day barely had started.

“I believed that I would be allowed to sleep at least half an hour more…”

And with that said, Rûsa took his pillow from his younger brother and rolled over to his stomach before pulling the pillow over his head in a failed attempt to get back to sleep, for the much younger trio was not so easily tricked by that and attacked him together, leading to it ending up becoming more of a child-friendly wrestling match between the four. After a couple of minutes where he found himself attacked from three angles at the same time, Rûsa won thanks to being much larger and having more weight on his adult body.

“Back to sleep, you three,” he said calmly, already half-way back into sleep, without removing his head from the pillow where he had trapped Yuë. With Frëja being the most heavy of the three children, it seemed natural that he had trapped her under his body in the most softest part of the mattress so he did not hurt her, while Cúwen found herself latched between his long legs and could not get loose.

“Brooooooother!! Let us go!” Cúwen protested while kicking with her legs.

“Nope. You caused this by waking me up too early.”

And with that, Rûsa fell back into sleep.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Outside Tirion, it was reasonably quiet as dawn arrived. Some of the Avari Elves in the Wood clan started to make fires, careful to not wake up others who were still sleeping.

“Good morning, honey. Did you sleep well?” asked Taurion and kissed Atara on the cheek, trying to not wake up the two grandsons who slept between them.

“The same for you, Taurion. Now, shall we try and get those young ones awake back to their own beds?”

“Yes.”

It was not uncommon that they ended up having a night visit by someone of their grandchildren, for the young elflings enjoyed to sneak into their bed and surprise them in the morning when they woke up. While Taurion and Atara enjoyed it, there was times when they wanted some more privacy for a bit of more adult fun between a wedded couple.

“At least not all of the children has chosen to have offspring as well…” whispered Taurion carefully as he lifted up the younger grandson in his arms and Atara took the other one. Out of Tauron seventeen's children, about nine had chosen to not marry and have children for different reasons.

“Thankfully for that.” Atara answered as they quietly put the boys back to their own bedrolls. Not too long afterwards, by going out and borrowing some hot ember from the fires outside, along with using some flint for getting the fire started faster, Atara soon had a fire done. While she focused on the fire, Taurion checked on how many fresh berries they could have to the morning porridge.

“Grandpa? I had a bad dream...”

One of their granddaughters, hardly more than a toddler, blinked sleeply as she dragged her blanket behind her in one small hand.

“A bad dream, you say? Well, come over here and see if helping your grandmother watching the fire might banish that unpleasant dream for you, sweetie,” Taurion offered with a knowing smile as he carefully picked up the girl in his arms.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By now, the rest of the Noldorin royal family had woken up. Much to her amusement Maedhros, still dressed in her white nightgown, found her oldest son still sleeping calmly despite the trio he managed to trap under himself.

“Did you three try and wake him up?” she asked with a smile as Frëja finally managed to pull herself free.

“We did, but then he surprised us…!”

Yuë was still trapped between the bed headboard and the pillow Rûsa's head laid on, but he simply shugged on his shoulders before trying to get free. Maedhros picked up a small pillow from the sofa at the window.  

“Okay, Rûsa, time to get up or you will be late.” she said out aloud before she suddenly brought the pillow down, much to the shock of the three present children. Out of very old instinct and reflexes, Rûsa was quick to wake up for real and roll over when he sensed something coming flying against his head and did not seem too surprised when he happened to roll over the edge of the bed and land on the floor.

“Ow! Should you really be doing this kind of task when you are due any day now, ammë?” groaned Rûsa as he rubbed the back of his head where he was pretty sure it soon would become a bump.

“A pillow does not weight that much, honey. Yuë, you can take the morning bath with your brother in here. Cúwen and Frëja, please come with me to another bathroom.” Maedhros answered as she rubbed her stomach. It was true that she was to be due any day now, but she saw no reason to remain in bed just because of that.

“Yes, great-aunt Nelyo.”

As Maedhros led out the girls, Rûsa nodded to Yuë to come along to the bathroom so they could clean themselves and not be late for breakfast.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

About a hour later, the family breakfast had been finished amd the different family members went to get dressed.

“How come that it always has to be so many layers of robes in events like this?” Rûsa asked in a displeased voice while he got some help by servants in getting dressed in a emerald-green Jubba. It was embroidered with gold thread into small versions of the eight-rayed Fëanorian star on his chest and the hem. There was a gold decorated border on the sleeves too. A girdle of gold was set around his waist, then a belt made of red silk placed just so to hang loosely from his hips.

“Part of being royal, Rûsa. Do not worry, great-grandfather has tried to shorten the ceremony as much as we can, or your mother would have his head,” assured Gil-galad as he put on a silver circlet. By now, Rûsa had learned that such sayings was not to be taken literally and smiled faintly at the words, knowing rather well that Maedhros tended to swich mood a little more often now when her due date was getting closer.

“What is this? A gift from chieftain Taurion again? Just how many gifts have you been given by him over the years, Rûsa?” wondered Argon and opened a basket made of braided reeds. Inside there was a light outer robe in a plum purple colour and a Fëanorian star in silver thread on the back.

“Wow...that is a Khrui, right? I have seen Taurion and other high-ranking members of the Wood Clan wearing such robes at important events before. It has been made especially for today,” said Maglor and held it up to get a better look.

“Quit speaking rubbish and help me get that outer robe on me. The faster we can get the ceremony over, the sooner I can get out of these!” Rûsa complained as he tried to get some space between the skin on his neck and the silver collar on the Jubba with a finger. Knowing how uncomfortable he could be in formal attire, the others went to help him.

“Easy now, kid. This is a event that only happens once in life. Try and enjoy your entry into adult life a little more, won't you?”

The dressing of Rûsa was finished with placing a very thin hair veil of white linen on his hair.

“For some reason the hair veil makes me feel like a bride…” Rûsa said just as Maedhros entered to see how things went. Hearing what he just had said, she walked over and carefully removed the veil from him without a word at first.

“You shall not need to feel like you are dressed up in that way. As for how the robes are...well, I blame the fashion that was around when your Haru was having his coming-of-age ceremony and somehow they remained into becoming the ceremonial robes for the Noldorin princes. And yes, I was dressed like that as well when I came of age,” Maedhros smiled in pride as she took in the full view of her oldest son. Maglor chuckled at the memory.

“I remember how some people was pretty scandalized over that sister was dressed like that, as most had expected her to show up in a nice dress.”

Rûsa snorted in disagreement at hearing that, especially as Maedhros right now was dressed in a comfortable robe designed solely for very heavily pregnant She-elves. Maedhros rolled her eyes as well at the memory, and straightened her son's robe on the shoulders out of habit.

“There, you are done. Stand up straight, chin up, eyes front and keep yourself calm. Relax a bit, honey, you have already given a oath of fealty to my grandfather thirty-five years ago, so this ceremony is merely a repeat of that.”    

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Because of that she was likely to give birth any day now and got tired easy as a result if she had to stand up for long, Maedhros had gotten a comfortable chair to sit on during the ceremony. The rest of her family was standing around her. Finwë was already standing at the foot of the giant, faceless marble statue that was meant to symbolize the All-Father Himself, with a sheathed sword in his hands. He hoped that things would go reasonable well without anything that could cause trouble today.

“If I hear one single word in protest that the firstborn son of my oldest granddaughter has his coming-of-age ceremony here in Tirion, l will turn a blind eye to whatever fight my son and his own six sons might start on Rûsa's behalf…” the High King thought to himself.

“Too bad that we could not paint a nice drawing on your belly since it would only be covered by the robe, ammë,” whispered Cúwen to Maedhros from where she stood beside Rog, who held Yuë in one arm. The Fëanorian princess smiled at her daughter.

“Still thanks for the kind idea, sweetie. Ah, here he comes.”

It was well-known that Rûsa was very handsome, even exotic-looking for some people thanks to that he had been fathered by someone from the Wood Clan and thus looked rather different from the classical Noldor appearance with black hair, pale skin and grey eyes, but today he really looked drop-dead gorgeous for anyone who might be interested in him. The green Jubba and the purple khrui brought out the red colour in his dark red hair, high-lightening his summer tan and the black depths of his eyes.

“Perhaps it actually was somewhat good that he was not around our sister during the First Age in one way, or I dare to say that Nelyo would have needed to chase away marriageable and love-stuck maidens from him!” whispered Caranthir to one of the twins at seeing some of the looks Rûsa got from the present noble-born maidens. Both Amras and Amrod nodded, knowing that Rûsa would be very uncomfortable around those unwed maidens.

“Are you ready, Russafinwë?” Finwë whispered in a gentle voice when Rûsa knelt in front of him. Rûsa nodded before he bent down his head to kiss the sword and spoke in clear voice as his royal great-grandfather placed the sword blade on his right shoulder:

“ ** _I will to my lord, High-King Finwë of the Noldor, be true and faithful, and love all which he loves and shun all which he shuns, according to the laws of Eru Ilúvatar, the governance of the Valar, and the order of the world. Nor will I ever with will or action, through word or deed, do anything which is unpleasing to him, on condition that he will hold to me as I shall deserve it, and that he will perform everything as it was in our agreement when I submitted myself to him and chose his will._ ** ”

Because of their military history, especially during the first two Ages of the Sun and with nearly everyone of Finwë's male descendants being warriors in some way, it was only natural that an coming-of-age ceremony for the new royal generations would hold some of that story inside. Once Rûsa had spoken, Finwë placed the sword blade on his left shoulder.  

“ **I hereby grant you, Russafinwë Arion Ceuraquen Nelyafinwion, the rank of Knight in the Order of the Stars.** ”

There was several surprised gasps at his words. Order of the Stars! The highest-ranking Order of knights and warriors in all of Valinor, the best of the very best. To be given a rank in that Order when you just had came of age was extremely rare, and required a very special event for a such allowment. But Finwë knew that Rûsa's past as the Warg Rider would make him the perfect spy against Morgoth and Sauron when the Dagor Dagorath would come. Having lived all his first life as a slave so close to them in their own stronghold inside Angband, he would be able to use his personality as the Warg Rider against them. The very weapon they had used against the House of Fëanor, now turned against themselves in the coming Final Battle.

“You already know why we shall need you in the Dagor Dagorath alongside your maternal family.”  

Finwë removed the sword from Rûsa's shoulder in order to give it to Fëanor who stood beside his father and then held up a golden circlet with emeralds, which he placed on Rûsa's head as a sign of his royal rank.

“Arise, prince Russafinwë.”

Maedhros could not hold back a couple of tears in mother's pride as Rûsa stood up to face the crowd. For a moment, she remembered her first look on her firstborn son back in the War of Wraith, and how different he was now. To know that the Warg Rider had been her own son…

“ _No, none of those sad memories now! It is a special day for Rûsa today, I have to focus on his happiness!_ ”

Maedhros smiled when Rûsa gave her a side-glance from the corner of his eye. Clearly he must have remembered their first real meeting, his birth not included, the shock of understanding that the other, who each one had believed to be dead, actually had been alive the whole time. The long years in the Halls of Mandos, where Rûsa had needed all help he could get to free himself from the horrors of his first life. The years after his rebirth, where he fought so hard to try and fit in despite the obvious problems and unusual behaviour he had now and then.

“Big brother Rûsa!”

_Brother!_

Unsurprising for anyone in the family, Cúwen and Yuë rushed over to him without any warning first. Out of habit because of the height difference between them, Rûsa quickly lowered himself down to pick them up in his arms.

“I know, I know, I will try and play with you for a short while when I get out of those robes,” Rûsa smiled at his two younger half-siblings with a small laugh that they seemed to have forgiven him for the event in his guest chamber earlier the same morning.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Jubba is an ankle-length, robe-like garment, usually with long sleeves, especially worn in Middle East. The khrui is a light outer garment worn as a gown or robe in certain ceremonial settings in Thailand. It is long-sleeved and open at the front, and is made of a sheer or mesh fabric, lined with a band of satin, felt or other material, and may be exquisitely embroidered. For a full idea on how Rûsa looks like during the ceremony, check out the image Royal couple by the artist Develv on Deviantart. The Order of the Stars was inspired by Knights Templar, for with the Noldor history as warriors, surely it would be logical for the Elves in Valinor to have some sort of knight order?


	26. Coming-of-age hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A special hunt is happening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Okay, dear readers, time for a little riddle to you! Lets see if there is any of you who can guess which songs that I have sneaked into the different parts of the chapter! Have fun in guessing!

Making a quick escape from all the nobles who wanted to talk with him and to congratulate him on finally coming of age, Rûsa took Cúwen and Yuë with him, carrying Yuë on one arm while holding Cúwen in one hand.

“This is part of why I dislike being royal, rarely a chance of being left alone for myself so I can breathe…” he muttered softly for himself as they entered a small chamber and closed the door to get some peace. The younger siblings grabbed hold of his outer robe and pulled it off him together.

“No more dolling up with you, brother! We will borrow this robe instead for that small play we planned to do with Frëja and some of our friends from the Wood Clan.”

Laughing at her words, Rûsa bent down a bit so he could place the purple outer robe around Yuë. The plum colour of the robe helped to slightly soften how white he was as a result of being an albino.

“You said something about needing a royal robe in the play, so you can borrow this one.” Rûsa said as he rose to his full height again.

“It is because Yuë is perfect for the role of great-uncle Nolo, seeing it will not be a speaking role there. And Frëja is gonna play the role of lord Aulë since he is the Maker of´the Dwarves after all,” Cúwen explained while Yuë bleamed in joy over being allowed to borrow the robe his brother had been given the same morning. Grinning at the mental image of the roles they would play, Rûsa ruffled both of their hairs.

“I am already looking forwards to see the play in a day or two when I returns from the coming-of-age hunt with my friends. Just don’t surprise the watching people too much with the planned water prank.”

_Oh, please! It is just a small reminder that Lord Ulmo is the King of Sea and Lord of Waters! What sort of damage can a few drops of water do?_ Yuë asked by the use of Ósanwë, one of his eyebrows raised to show what he meant. Rûsa, who currently held a simple hair pin made of bone between his teeth and therefore could not answer before he had set up his hair in a high ponytail with the hair pin, simply shrugged his shoulders as he freed himself from the clothes he had worn during the coming-of-age ceremony.

“Tell that to those nobles, though.”

All the three siblings snorted in agreement. Being half-Avari instead of pure-bred Noldor, they had some of the Avarin Elves' restless wish for freedom in different forms; Rûsa by being a very careful rebel against royal customs, Cúwen with her endless energy and while Yuë was still very young with his twenty years of age, there was no doubt that he might find something to diagree with as well when he got older.

“Now, let me help you two getting ready for that play so you and the others can draw away the attention from me so I can sneak out without being seen, or at least not seen as I can be with this height.”

Cúwen and Yuë snicked at his words, knowing just how hard it actually was for Rûsa to avoid getting seen because of how tall he was.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, Frëja was helping the other young actors, a gang of Elflings from the Wood Clan, to hand out hand-made invitations to the play they had practiced in the past month. The Noldorin royal family were definitely guests who must come, that much was clear, given that only Finarfin had stayed behind in Valinor while the others had left.

“Haru Atarinkë! Grandmother Astarë! This is for you!”

Unfortunately, Frëja did not get enough time to slow down in her running and ended up headbutting Curufin straight in the stomach as she tried to stop.

“Uff! I never get used to that unusual weight of yours that you inherited from your Dwarrowdam mother, girl…”, gasped Curufin in pain from the sudden hit, kneeling on the floor with a hand on his stomach as he mentally sent a quick prayer in thanks to Eru that Frëja finally had grown just barely tall enough to stop headbutting him in the groin area in this manner of greetings now when she was 110 cm tall.

“What do you have for us, sweetheart?” Astarë asked gently to her half-Dwarf granddaughter, while giving her husband a comforting clap on the shoulder to show her sympathy for his pain.

“This is for you two,” Frëja informed with a nervous side-glare on her Elvish paternal grandfather as she handed Astarë a hand-made invitation for the play. By now Curufin managed to slowly raise to his feet, although he still held a hand on his stomach as the pain had not really dulled yet. If there was one thing he never really got used to no matter how many times he lifted her up in his arms, so was it the small fact that his only grandchild was noticeable heavier and more sturdy built than a pure-blood Elfling in the same age.

“Oh, a small play where Lindë, Cúwen, Yuë and yourself will be some of the actors? Of course we will come, this sounds fun,” Astarë said as she opened the invitation to find two amulets, to be used as tickets for entry to the play, inside.

“Thank you, grandma!” Frëja smiled, before spotting Fingolfin and Anaire a bit futher away in the hallway.

“Great-great-uncle Nolo certainly is someone who should really have fun at seeing this play because of that he sort of is one of the characters mentioned during the story, see you two later!”

And with that, Frëja hurried away to try and act up with Fingolfin and Anaire to give them a invitation as well. While Astarë waved goodbye to their granddaughter, Curufin looked over his wife's shoulder to see what was written in their own invitation.

“ _The false King of Arda_? Yup, that really sounds like a true Fëanorian humour if you ask me.”

“Only because you knows perfectly well who it will be a joke about, my dear Curvo,” Astarë warned sweetly to him in a innocent way with her elbow against his stomach where Frëja had headbutted him only a couple of minutes before. Curufin took the hint and kept his mouth shut.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

While the rest of the royal court was getting focused on the play the children was playing, Rûsa had managed to sneak away to the Wood Clan camp outside Tirion. Right now, the ceremonial face painting was almost finished.

“There, you are done. Being the highest-ranked of the youngsters who comes of age this year, you will be the Great Hunter.”  

Rûsa nodded. The one chosen as the role of the Great Hunter, was the one to give the signal to start the coming-of-age hunt. Despite what moral guardians might think, it was actually pretty innocent: Find the _ner_ or _nis_ who caught the flower crown you were wearing and then spend the night together just enjoying time together. Nothing of the kind of stuff that would result in marriages, although it was not unheard among those who wanted to get married once both partners in a relationship was of age.

“Now you looks like a proper hunter instead of wearing all those layers of clothing from before, _princess_ ,” teased one of his oldest half-brothers and earned a light slap on the shoulder. Rûsa smirked in pride, the green face paint made a nice contrast to his dark red hair which was hung in a high ponytail and his summer-tanned skin. He also wore a set of silver ear rings, which was an noticeable contrast to the leather pants and olive-green, sleeveless and open west he was wearing.

“Let’s have fun.”

As the Great Hunter, Rûsa was to wear a crown made from the horns of a stag. Not a very big one, it would only be impractical if he got into a forest and it got stuck on low-hanging branches, but it stood out among the flower crowns that the rest of the other young Elves wore. It also had some green ribbons hanging from the crown around Rûsa's head.

“Up with you on that black stallion of yours, we cannot start without your signal.”

 

The young She-elves were eagerly awaiting the signal as they each dressed in a fitted top along with a full-length skirt or pants, depending on what they chose, in different colours that made them look like a moving rainbow together. This was something all of them had been looking forward under the whole past year.

“Rûsa is perfect as the Great Hunter! Awww, if he was not already taken, I think several of us would try with him tonight…” one of them giggled dreamily with a meaningful look at Maeglin, who simply smiled in gratitude for the respect of her relationship with him. If it was so that someone already was “taken” into a relationship, that Elf was not to be caught by anyone else than the partner.

“I am actually not too surprised over that he really is popular among you, girls. And yes, who cannot fall for him with that kindness and tender smile of his?” Maeglin smiled as she fixed the last braid in her hair and smoothed out her dark lime-green pants. She knew that none of them was really a possible rival to her about Rûsa, he simply was very well-liked among them for several reasons. Using a small hand mirror, Maeglin placed some green eyeshadow on her eyelids so she marked herself as the only one allowed to catch Rûsa's stag crown thanks to wearing the same green colour as his ribbons would be.

“I hear a horse, get ready!”

With the afternoon sun in his back as the black stallion showed up on a hill and reared while its rider blew in a hunting horn, Rûsa almost looked like a true personification of Oromë. The sound of his horn was the signal, and several young male Elves rode past the hill where he was.

“Time to hunt you guys down!”

Laughter and shouts in agreement from the other She-elves was heard, and Rûsa got in a hurry as well when she saw the ladies arrive out from between the tents where they had been hiding.  

“But you have to catch our crowns first if you want us to spend the one night one of you, ladies!” Rûsa called, standing up on the galloping stallion's back to wave at them as a teasing, before he mounted the horse properly again.

“My red-haired fox prince,” Maeglin smiled fondly for herself as she made herself ready to catch him sooner or later during the evening.

~X~X~X~X~X~X  

Meanwhile, at the royal palace in Tirion:

“As fun as this play was...did you kids really need to use water-filled bath sponges and toss on random people from the scene everytime Ulmo showed up in the story?” asked Ecthelion as he dried of his soaking wet head with a towel a servant girl offered him.

“More fun this way, sir Ecthelion!” most of the Elflings from the Wood clan cheerfully grinned in response to him, before suddenly rushing off to their parents under a lot of questions what they felt about the play. Behind the scene, Lindë was helping Elured to get out of the black custome he had used to play Morgoth, while Elurin had been playing Sauron.

“So that’s where my helmet went earlier today…” said Fingolfin as he was handed back the helmet Yuë had borrowed from the armoury where they had a copy of the armour Fingolfin had wore during the duel against Morgoth. In a corner, Maglor had picked his his own harp to play from the song that had been sung during the play.

“ _Too late to be known as Melkor the Just_

_He's sure to be known as Morgoth the Worst_

_A nightmare, that false king of Arda!_ ”

Well, the song was pretty catchy, so Maedhros had no trouble with laughing softly behind her oldest younger brother's back. She knew that Maglor enjoyed any change to offer her some sort of fun.

“You had pretty fun when you wrote that song, didn't you, Yuë? You hold a great skill in writing, I would not be surprised if you ends up as a Loremaster when you are fully grown.”

Yuë just blushed slightly and tried to hide his face with Rûsa's plum purple robe at Anaire's words, especially as he also happened to hear Saira asking Frëja who it was that had written the song lyrics. Maedhros smiled, which quickly turned into a slight grimance when she felt a steady pattern of slowly growing pain around her belly.

“Rog...healing wing. **_Now._ ** While everyone is too busy around here. I believe our new child will be here before midnight,” she whispered quietly to her husband. Rog nodded in understanding. With this being Maedhros' fourth pregnancy, they knew what signs to look for on that her labour had become more active as a warning about the coming birth.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The hours passed. It was now twilight and while many couples had found each others, Rûsa refused to let Maeglin catch his stag crown yet. Maeglin had to give Rûsa some credit, he was very good at hiding himself once he had learnt a couple of tips to not be revealed by his height.

“Rûsaaaa...you really do no want to become caught before nightfall, huh? Well, do not expect me to give up yet, fox prince,” Maeglin said loudly in a sing-along voice so he would hear her, grinning for herself as she looked around between the trees, knowing that he did hide somewhere. Coming to a small waterfall, she bent down to cup some water in her hands and drink. Then, she slowly started to free her hair from the braids. When they were alone together, Rûsa simply loved to move his hands though her hair, claiming that it felt as soft as silk for him.

“ _Tell me, my Warg Rider, what do you see? Just close your eyes and describe it to me…_ ”

From where he hid behind a large tree, Rûsa blushed yet also smiled at the sight of what Maeglin was doing. She tempered him to reveal himself, that much was clear, but given what sort of event it was going on around them, he would not be the only male Elf around who tried to not fall for his chosen lady's not-so-innocent charms.  

“ _The heavens are sparkling with starlight tonight, that's what I see through your raven-black eyes, my blacksmith princess._ ”

Maeglin smiled when she picked up the sound of his voice. He was close by. Loosing her purple silk scarf from the waist, Maeglin moved the scarf along her neck and hair as a unspoken promise to Rûsa of what she could offer to him tonight. Even if they had promised to not cross the line and become a married couple until a proper wedding night, it did not mean that they had to remain fully chaste. Finding one anothers' weaknesses spots could be very useful on the wedding night.

“ _Far longer than forever, as constant as an enteral star of Varda on the night sky, I close my eyes and I am where you are…_ ”  

Rûsa heard Maeglin come closer to where he was. He started to back away in order to hide once more, but a low-hanging branch stopped him thanks to getting stuck in his crown. While Rûsa could have taken off the crown and hide somewhere else, it would rob Maeglin of the pleasure to finding him like this, awkwardly stuck.

“Now, how did you end up stuck like that, silly fox prince?” giggled Maeglin at seeing how he was trapped. Giving her a awkward smile in embarrassment, Rûsa looked almost like a child for a moment. Well, logically it was not too far off: in many ways, he had somehow remained a young, confused and very scared child mentally back in Angband even as his body had grown into a adult because of that he had been emotionally stunted as a result of his life as a slave. But here in Aman, where he had gotten a chance of a real childhood and mature emotionally, he had grown up in more ways than more.

“Let me get you free from that crown so we can enjoy some time together instead of running around like this.”

Holding up her hands, Maeglin carefully freed Rûsa from the stag crown and used her scarf to gently pull his face closer to her own for a kiss. Rûsa did not protest, instead he obeyed the silent command.

“As my lady wishes,” he smiled before giving her the desired kiss. As they kissed, he placed his arms around Maeglin's body. Just the mere touch of her lips against his own were enough to cause a storm of different feelings inside him. It was so intoxicating, in a way he had never felt during his life in Angband. Rûsa knew there was a very high possibility that he had inherited the hot-blooded passion of his maternal ancestors and his father Taurion that could dull his common sense when it came to romantic moments like this one, but he would do his best to ensure that he and Maeglin did not end up doing a serious mistake that they would regret afterwards. He might finally be of age now, but Rûsa held a frim belief in doing his courting of Maeglin correct this time instead of how it all had started between them in Angband.   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Given that Frëja is a dwelf with a 152 cm tall Dwarven mother and a 180 cm tall Elven father, it is pretty difficult to say exactly what height she would be, but 110 cm is 3,6 feet so it seemed logical with that. According to a friend's calculations, an average 7-year-old (in human years) dwarf girl would be about 101.7 cm tall, whereas the average height of elf girls at the same age is about 133.5 cm. Thus, Freja's height should be something between 101.7 cm and 133.5 cm. Frëja is also calling Fingolfin for great-great-uncle, seeing that he is a brother to her great-grandfather Fëanor.


	27. A new sibling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the coming-of-age hunt is a step on a new journey

It was just after dawn when Rûsa slowly woke up, Maeglin still sleeping in his arms and holding one closed fist on his bare chest where they slept on a cloak he had brought along. Since it was summer, they had not needed to worry about getting cold while they slept on the ground, even if they were half-naked with only their underwear still on. Faint sounds of voices could be heard.      

“Maeglin? I think it is time for us to wake up, if we shall not be very late to arrive home…”

She muttered something in her sleep, but did not awake yet. Not that Rûsa actually minded to stay here for a while more. Smiling, he placed a faint kiss on her forehead. Well, he was not the one to wake her up if she wanted to sleep a little longer. It was not like they were in a hurry to return back to Tirion. And how different this moment was, if one was to compare with their short month together in Angband…

~X~X~X~X~X~X

_He had quickly taken up the habit of letting her sleep closest to the wall in the corner where his bed was. Not to trap her, that much was clear. With Maeglin still recovering from the torture that had forced her to betray Gondolin in order to make the agony stop, she was vulnerable as long as the wounds had not healed. A infection could take a life so easy here in Angband unless the wound was quickly dealt with._

_“Ow!” Maeglin hissed faintly in pain when the the cloth, that was soaked in alcohol, was gently pressed against one of her half-open wounds on her arm._

_“Sorry...I cannot do any better than this…this is the result of often having to take care of my injuries myself after a battle...” Rûsa apologized, trying his best to be gentle. Maeglin nodded weakly, hearing on his voice that he had not meant to cause her more harm. Even if he wore that iron mask which hid his face and the dark red hair framing the mask, she could still see his body thought the ragged clothes. He was rather skinny as a result of starvation, and while he was strong to be able to lift her without too much trouble, he was not that muscular as he might have been if he had been healthier. His hands, long and thin just the rest of the body to their owner, were scarred in so many ways that it barely was any original skin left; old and healed burns, scars from sharp rocks or stones, possible whip marks, and the nails looked far from healthly._

_“From the way he speaks and acts...just how old is he actually? He can not be a mere youth, but surely he can’t be much older than me at the most...right?”_

_Maeglin knew better than calling someone a child when you did not know their true age, as it was a very good way to badly hurt someone's feelings._

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back in Tirion:

“What a beautiful daaaaaay!” Frëja sang happily while she, Cúwen and Yuë had taken a chance to sneak outside the palace before breakfast. Yuë made a soundless giggle at her energy while he used a small hand to brace the large straw hat with a belonging thin veil sewn on the edges of the hat used to protect him against the morning sun. It was a hat which Rûsa once had used at the same age to protect himself against the summer sun, as strong sunlight and pale-skinned redheads are not the best of combinations.   

“Tell us if we are going too fast for you, little brother.”

 _I am fine, I have gotten better at keeping up over the years,_ Yuë answered by Ósanwë as he followed after the two girls. He was a litte slower than his sister and Frëja, but he could do fine on his own. It was true that Yuë would always be frail and somewhat sickly because of his premature birth, but he still had some of the family stubbonness and wish for living that seemed to have saved him after being born so early.

“Let’s see if master Rumil has managed to wake up, I think his house is somewhere around here...ah!”

Suddenly Cúwen walked straight into someone as she spoke. The adult made a sound in surprise too as he tried to regain his balance, which is not the easiest thing to do when you are missing half of one leg and need crutches to be able to walk.

“Watch out!”

Thankfully, two other adults managed to catch him before he fell to the ground.

“Goodness, that was close…oh?”

Looking closer, Cúwen and Yuë recognized the trio of adult Elves. They looked slightly different from before, thanks to now sporting new hair styles where the lower part of the sole braid was dyed with red ochre to make a contrast between the normal hair colour and the hair dye, along with two finger-long white strips across each cheek and being dressed in a knee-length tunic and loincloth with belonging sandals.

“Princess Cúwen and prince Yuë! Our sincere apologies, you didn't hurt yourself colliding with my brother like that, I hope, princess?” asked Almo nervously while Vórimo supported Túrëo from tripping over again before he managed to find a good balance with the crutches and his left leg.

“There is no need of using our titles like that, we told you such when we were in the caves,” commented Cúwen as she stood up to dust off her simple blue dress. As if to give her words bigger weight, Yuë wrote something down on his little slate and held it up so that the others could read:

_Sister is right, our family do not use our royal titles so much back home in Formenos._

“Oh? And who is this pretty young lady you two are with today?”

As the siblings introduced Frëja to the three adults, Túrëo took a chance to sit down on the board edge to a fountain, placing both crutches to his left. He was still learning how to live with being a cripple, even if he had taken it surprising well after a few days of understandable depression and had been told that Maedhros had learnt to live with only one hand, it was still a massive difference of losing a hand and losing half a leg.

“Why are you here in Tirion? Should you not be with the Mountain Clan? Or at least, one of the Maiar in the Gardens of Lorien told us that you would be living there from now on since Almo is married to one of the ladies there.”

The three brothers looked at one another out of old habit before Vórimo answered:

“We requested permission to pay a small visit to both our maternal and paternal grandparents while some of their merchants would still be here in connection with your older brother's coming-of-age ceremony. Since they left Valinor with the host of prince Ñolofinwë and died in the Fall of Gondolin along with not being reborn until the middle of the Third Age...well, neither one of our parents was too happy over that they left, and flat out refused to let them visit us when we were growing up. We could only visit them in secret when sneaking out from the wineyard manor where we grew up.”

It was not too pleasant memories, having to meet their grandparents like that and knowing what kind of big risk they took everytime they did so, even if the short visits with their grandparents had been something they secretly had loved to do behind their parents' back. Yet they had stopped sneaking away to thei grandparents after a certain age, in fear that parents would realize what they actually did, rather than having all the extra school lessons as they said.

“I believe that this is yours.”

Túrëo had picked up something from his small bag in the belt. It was two small wooden toys, a eagle respective a cat, small enough to fit into the palms of a adult.

“The toys you caved for us?”

“Yes. Even if it was not an ideal place for a such gift, I hoped that it would help you see that not all of us was like our mother. And we held no great love for our father as well, he was...far from the best of fathers, very difficult to please no matter what we did and he never seemed able to forget the humiliation of having been denied the chance to marry your mother and possibly even become a Prince consort to a ruling High Queen of the Noldor.”

The three brothers had taken up the habit of not mention either Nárion or Calcanis by their names anymore, trying to free themselves from their birthparents and their past. It would not be easy, but there was no harm in trying to free themselves in a such manner.

“Thank you for saving them…”

“ _Cúwen! Yuë! Frëja! Where are you?!_ ” a couple of voices suddenly called in the distrance, along with the sound of running feet.

“Overprotective uncles, who are grumpy now in the morning after a little to much wine on the feast yesterday evening. We better go before we get you all in new trouble. See you!”

And with that the three youngsters from the House of Fëanor hurried away so their older relatives did not need to search for them so long. Giving his younger brothers a small hand signal as request to help him raise up from the fountain, Túrëo said:

“Let's return back to the house of our maternal grandparents before they start worrying that something happened to us on the morning walk because someone recognized us as our father's sons.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As Rûsa and Maeglin rode back to Tirion while the dawn revealed itself in its full morning glory, they were joined by several of their friends. They only needed to share a knowing look to understand that some of them had been joined in marriage during the night. Well, all of them were of age, so there would be no scandal about someone being underage and married already.

“Look! It is prince Russafinwë and princess Maeglin!”

Of course, since there were Elves who had managed to stay sober under the great feast yesterday while the coming-of-age hunt had been going on, they did not manage to sneak back to the royal palace without trouble.

“Congratulations on coming of age, prince Russafinwë!”

“Thank you.”

At least Rûsa managed to keep his tone civil and welcoming to the well-wishers they rode past, remarkable for him because of how socially awkward he could be at times, mostly thanks to his first life as a slave in Angband. Lucky, Maeglin could help him before he got too overwhelmed and it did not take long before they finally was at the front yard of the palace, where they dismounted their horses.

“I am starving from the hunt yesterday, some breakfast with hot tea and warm food will be wonderful...”

Rûsa got no chance to finish speaking before he nearly was tackled to the ground by the power of Cúwen, Yuë and Frëja together.

“Big brother! You missed something very important yesterday because you were away on the hunt!” said Cúwen from where she hung from his left arm.

 _And it is not the play we mean,_ Yuë commented mentally, having gotten a good place with his little arms around Rûsa's neck. Thankfully, they had gotten him to the ground, so there was no risk of Rûsa getting choked by the weight of his little brother.

“Get off me…” gasped Rûsa in a faint protest as he tried to get free from the trio. Maeglin stood a bit away, not wanting to get dragged into whatever it was that the children seemed to be in now.

“Come on, Rûsa! You have someone to meet!” added Frëja as she pulled on his right arm. With a tired groan in defeat, Rûsa allowed them to drag him along to the healing wing, Maeglin a couple of steps behind them.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

What Rûsa had missed during the hunt was the birth of his second half-sister Lówen. She was very alike Rog even as a newborn, despite that her hair was a far more golden platinum blonde rather than his white hair.

“No doubt about the paternity here for this little lady, just like with the others,” smiled Maedhros from the bed as she watched her firstborn holding his new baby sister in his arms. Rûsa knew that she did not mean any harm in her words, he knew very well from a quick look in the mirror that he was a rather even mix of Taurion's and Maedhros' own appearance, even if he might favour his father more when it came to the colours and his mother when it came to the body shape.

“Indeed it is...oh.”

By now, Lówen had woken up and fussed a little bit inside the baby blanket, being hungry after the long nap. She recognized Rûsa's voice from her long time in the womb and thus were not afraid when she heard him, but right now she wanted to eat.

“Sorry, looks like it is time for you to leave us alone for a bit.”

Nodding, Rûsa handed back Lówen to Maedhros so he could take the younger sibings out of the chamber for a small while.

“Lets go and get some breakfast ourselves, or what do you think?”

A loud growl from both Yuë's and Rûsa's stomachs seemed to be a answer good enough. Maedhros shaked fondly at her head and pretended to complain to her newest daughter as she fed her:

“Look at your older brothers, Lówen, hopeless as always when it comes to not eating properly. They really need two good wives for themselves, do you not agree, huh?”

Being busy with eating as she was, Lówen focused on getting milk from Maedhros, but her three elder siblings all laughed as they went to the dining room. But before they left, Rûsa looked over his shoulder as he spoke:

“Ammë, when we have done Lówen's naming ceremony in nine days...is it possible to request that you all later gathers to hear on something that Maeglin and I wishes to tell?”

“Of course, sweetie, that can be fixed,” promised Maedhros before she had to focus on Lówen. Smiling in thanks, Rûsa hurried to catch up with Cúwen and Yuë as Maeglin gently pulled him along by the arm.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: I got the idea for the red ochre hair dye from the beautiful hair styles of the women in the Hamar people from southwestern Ethiopia. The Avari Mountain Clan is inspired from the Inca culture, so it should be easy to imagine Túrëo, Vórimo and Almo in that kind of colourful clothes. Lówen means Night girl in Quenya, fitting for someone who is born at night.


	28. A marriage wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something important needs to be revealed for the whole Noldorin royal family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: those who remember some of Hugo Weaving's facial expressions at the Council of Elrond back in the FOTR movie will likely be amused at something with Fingolfin in this chapter.

The naming ceremony for Lówen went very well nine days later. She was quiet because she was very focused on sucking on a wooden amulet that she had gotten as a gift from her oldest brother. No one was really sure how she had managed to grab it in that way and put it in her mouth.

“That one was not really meant as a pacifier…” Rûsa said softly to Rog at seeing what his youngest sister was doing while Maedhros was trying to make Lówen stop sucking on the amulet. Rog patterned his shoulder as a sign on that it was alright.

“No need to worry, it is too big for her to swallow, she is too little to do much else than sucking on it.”

“True…”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Once the ceremony and the following traditional meal was over, many in the Noldorin royal family noticed something that was not normal, namely that Rûsa tried to calm down himself by slipping on a glass of wine. As he never drank alcohol normally, especially thanks to an absolutely dreadful cocktail of mixed, high-strength strong alcoholic drinks that Fëanor once had tricked Rûsa into drinking shortly after his rebirth in order to make him stop trying to eat on things that was harmful for Elflings, it was a sign of how serious it must be for him.    

“All right, Rûsa. What is it that makse you be so nervous that you drink alcohol to calm down when you never touches alcoholic drinks otherwise? You didn't even touch any alcohol before the coming-of-age ceremony!” Maedhros asked bluntly to her oldest son, who quickly put down the still half-filled glass back on the table at her words. She was not the only one to wonder why he acted so strange.

“Is it because you get stressed over all the invitations to the various celebrations that you have received every day now? We should have warned you about that, there are some people who would love to hook you as a law-son married to one of their unwed daughters. It was the same for my sons and grandsons back in the Years of the Trees before everything went south,” said Finwë in an apologetic tone, mentally rebuking himself for not having thought of that earlier. He should have known that, with his own family back in their younger years. Behind the High King, his three sons and their wedded children shared an agreed look of suffering at the mention of that. Especially Maedhros and Fëanor, who had been the highest catch on the marriage market before Nerdanel had caught him and the Kinslayings had ruined what good chances for marriage Maedhros once had.

“N-no...it...it is not the invitations that troubles me...most of them comes from haru's old supporters and they have told me that the invitations is merely for show…”

Rûsa would have started to bite on his thumb nails, a very old habit of his that surfaced every time he was extra nervous or stressed and which his family in vain had tried to make him stop with, had not Maedhros quickly placed Lówen in his arms just to prevent that.

“Sit down, sweetheart.”

He obeyed and sat down on a couch, carefully holding his younger half-sister as he did so. He was not too surprised that Maeglin took the chance to sit down beside him, looking as if it simply had been a mere coincidence since he still had some small free space beside him in the couch.

“Is it something else, then?”

Maeglin used her sitting position beside him to write on his back with a finger:

_Let_ ' _s_ _try and get the reveal over before you get too afraid to say it to everyone._

Half by instinct, Rûsa held Lówen as if she was a shield to defend him against any possible negative reaction for what he was about to say.

“Well...the thing is that...coming of age is also a sign of that I am seen as old enough for marriage, right? There...is a lady I have been meeting for a couple of years in private…”

Maeglin tried to not show anything in her face or eyes that could betray her as the lady in question, twenty years of secret meetings behind their families backs was not just a couple of years as he tried to put it as.

“Yes?”

It did not matter who it was that asked, Rûsa tried so hard to remain calm. Well, no one really blamed him for suddenly becoming so nervous to speak about it that he ended up speaking it as one long word but not like an sentence:

“IreallylovesherofmywholeheartandIwouldlovetomarryherbutwearenotsurethatourfamilieswouldagree…”

Inhaling a deep breath and straightening his back at the end, he found himself unable to say anything more.

“Huh?”

Half of the royal family was confused as they had only managed to catch a few words of what he had said, while others had caught on the problem a bit.

“Is the main problem what once happened in the family and our past deeds?” Fëanor asked with a side-look on his children, who got the hint that he meant the three Kinslayings. Unable to say anything more because he could not find the right words, Rûsa instead made a old Elvish handsign to confirming that it was at least half the problem, but thankfully not the whole one. Maedhros shared a worried look with many of the other family members in the room, she had known that there was very high risk of her children facing difficulty in finding someone to marry thanks to who she was, and it looked like Rûsa had gotten in that situation right now. Suddenly they heard the familiar sound of Yuë tapping his fingers on his slate to get attention, this was something he tended to do when he was not sure that his Ósanwë would be heard by everyone around. But it was what he had written on the slate that surprised everyone:

_You sit differently when you're next to Maeglin, Big Brother._

That small, written comment seemed to be what Fingolfin needed to realize who the lady in question must be, based on that he in just that very moment gave the already nervous Rûsa what people had nick-named the “look of doom” that the House of Fingolfin was infamous for, and which Elrond was said to have mastered already at a young age.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X    

At the same time, the merchants from the Mountain clan was enjoying the journey back to their main camp. They had left Tirion five days earlier once they had finished their business there.

“Nice to hear that everything was well with both sets of your grandparents and that they looked forwards to be great-grandparents to the end of next spring.”

“Well, Qucha is still having ten months left before the birth, so they still have lot of time to get used to that kind of news…” smiled Almo in pride, looking really happy over that he was about to become a father. It was a perfect beginning of the three brothers's new life in the Mountain clan and seeing that he currently was the only one with a wife, it had not surprised his older brothers so much that he sooner or later would get his Avari wife pregnant. In fact, they were only too grateful for that it had not happened while Calcanis still had been alive.

“Ow! Try and avoid any large stones on the road, could you please? It is a little hard to keep my balance otherwise...” requested Túrëo when a stone under one of the front wheels caused a jump in the rhythm of the movement of the carriage and he fell backwards against one sack of wheat they had bought in Tirion. He had been interrupted in the middle of making a new wooden figure at the sudden jump caused by the stone.

“Sorry, we will try to be more careful.”

“Do not feel the need of making extra trouble just because of me...”

Taking back the half-finished wooden piece and the small knife from where he had dropped them, Túrëo started to work on the small figure again. He was pretty skilled in making this kind of small wooden figures, and even had been offered a chance to be a apprentice to one of the wood carvers in the Mountain Clan when his skills had been spotted by the Elf in question thanks to seeing some of the small toys Túrëo had done mostly in order to pass time as he recovered from the amputation of his lower right leg.

“I am glad that our maternal grandfather could get this textbook about the basic skills a healer needs to know for me. I am glad that I could be an apprentice to the healers in the Clan, but some information from the Noldor are never wrong...hm? Túrëo, what are you carving this time?” wondered Vórimo when he took a look away from the book in his hands to see what the eldest brother was doing. His question also caught Almo's attention. To their surprise, Túrëo blushed slightly before he revealed what it was:

A small wooden head bust of Cúwen.

Thankfully, Vórimo and Almo were not the kind of siblings to tease Túrëo about having a possible crush on someone, especially since all three of them had been charmed by Maedhros' eldest daughter and second-born son in different ways. They had never agreed with Calcanis on kidnappning them, even openly telling their mother that her thirst for revenge would only ruin their lives even more given what their father had already tried to do and he had paid with his life for it. But blinded for consequences of her plan as she had been in her pride, Calcanis had refused to listen to her three oldest sons no matter what they did to try and stop her from kidnapping the two royal children.

“Given that Cúwen and Yuë were ready to plead for mercy on our behalf, I think there is a chance of a friendship in the future.”

“Aye, I believe so as well.”

Smiling, Túrëo started to make the finishing touches on the small wooden head bust. He planned to paint it later, so it would look so alike Cúwen it could be.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Back at the royal palace in Tirion:

“So...the two of you have been secretly seeing each other for the past **_twenty_ ** years?”

“...yes, Haru Fëanáro...”

It had not taken too much time or effect for both of their respective maternal grandfather to make the young couple in question to confess the truth. Having seen how terrified Rûsa had been for a moment at the look Fingolfin had given him, Maeglin had tried her best to cover him from the others. Not a easy task, when Rûsa was twenty centimeters taller and a lot more muscular than Maeglin herself, but she knew that the mere attempt to shield him would be a comfort for him right now.  

“Explains a couple of things that we all found somewhat odd in the past years, then. Like this that I found in her private forge when helping Maeglin to clean a little extra in there, for example. It is not the colours my daughter normally would use in her hair braids,” said Aredhel and held up something. It was a simple braid of three different-coloured yarn pieces, meant to be used to tie up the hair with. Rûsa tried not to twitch at realizing that he must have forgotten it in his hurry to escape out from the forge at dawn before someone had seen him leave.  

“Well, if is the case...you did a very good job at keeping it secret…I take it that you feared what those annoying moral guardians would say if they had gotten words about it...” Eöl started, before Turgon interrupted him:

“Encourage them not! Do you not see the danger of that they could have gone over the line and gotten married too early...”

“Maeglin is **_my_ ** daughter, not yours. You messed up enough much as it is as her “guardian” in that good-for-nothing Hidden City of yours, you overly religious, arrogant, pompous peacock!” Eöl cut back with a annoyed glare over his shoulder, knowing already how Turgon would react on that insult.

“Peacock?!”

“All right, that is enough, you two. Try and not start a fight now, okay? There is another family trouble that we need to talk about…” commanded Anaire in a warning voice to her middle son and law-son. Since Fingolfin and his family were used to the vocal brawls between Eöl and Turgon, they managed to stop the argument pretty quickly so they all could focus once again on Maeglin and Rûsa on the couch. Finwë sighed deeply, this was real mess that no one of them had expected at all.

“Maeglin, you to the the eastern balcony. Russafinwë, you to my study. We will speak with you both one-and-one about this, one version each, both sets of parents and maternal grandparents present with their respective child,” the High King finally ordered after a few minutes. No one cared to remind him that Rog actually was Rûsa's stepfather. The young couple in question was quick to obey and went to where he had requested them to go.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

About half an hour passed while Rûsa told his story to his gathered family members along with actually telling them that it had been him who had helped Maeglin escape from Angband, even if he did not mention that she had been forced to be his concubine back then. Not many minutes later, at the eastern balcony, Maeglin comfirmed what Rûsa had said:   

“What.”

Out of all the older Elves, Eöl and Aredhel was the only ones present to not seem too shocked. But then, they had already been told the truth about their daughter's unwanted relationship to Rûsa back in the Halls of Mandos.

“It is true. Back in Angband we did not know that we were distant relatives…”

“ _What,_ ” repeated Fingolfin in shock.

“As the Warg Rider, he always wore a iron mask over his face. I never saw how he looked like until the Halls of Mandos. But now, when we finally got a chance to actually get to know each other properly as he grew up, we are sure about that the feelings are mutal. We love each other and wish to marry,” Maeglin continued as if she had not been interrupted at all.

“Maeglin,” Eöl said, “dearest daughter, twilight child of mine, you two do realize that it is not a worry about the past between the family lines that we talks about this, but because a marriage between you will not be seen with kind eyes by all people in Valinor?”

“Yes we knew that from the very start. But Haru Ñolofinwë and great-uncle Fëanor are no longer having that idiotic sibling feud about who was the lawful heir to the crown, or we would never have dared to ask you for a permission to marry like we did today. That’s half the battle already." Maeglin answered stubbornly.

“The moral guardians will be furious,” Aredhel smirked, “think of their ruffled feathers.”

“The Vanyarin moral guardians get offended when the wind blows the wrong way over their roof. And the gossip hens would make a feather into a henhouse when they hear about this. Personally I would perfer Rûsa as a law-son over any spoiled young noble that has no idea what really happened to my daughter in _that place._ He would be able to defend her if needed,” Eol muttered with crossed arms over his chest. That much was true, in many ways Rûsa was better suited as a husband for Maeglin than people knew.

“Ada, Haru,” Maeglin said, “ ** _please_ **.”

Eöl looked at his daughter, who held her breath as he exchanged a glance with Fingolfin. As the two family heads of her maternal family and her birth family, they were the ones Maeglin would need to ask for permission if she wanted to marry. It was mostly formal, given that she was long used to fend for herself since her rebirth. But since she rarely had asked for something like this in her life before, not counting the disastrous family argument when she had expressed her desire to leave Nan Elmoth, Maeglin had a firm belief that her father couldn’t deny her anything.

“Rather Rûsa than someone who would belittle you in the marriage because of the events in the past. And it is not like you are too close related either, since you logically only share one common great-grandparent in my father and is descendants of his two different wives,” Fingolfin finally spoke as Eöl already had given his view on the matter.

“…you promise you both will keep a low profile about this until you’re wed?” Eöl asked Maeglin mostly to remind her that it would not be a easy matter to reveal this family marriage. She nodded.

“We planned to keep ourselves to the Avari Clans until  the first scandal about this had died out. And fix our own house in Formenos while waiting for the wedding. We are not planning to have children right away, we want to enjoy marriage life alone first for a couple of centuries. Besides, Rûsa is offically just of age, people would start unpleasant rumours about the _infamous family fertility_ if I got pregnant only a few years or even a few months after the wedding, or that he married me in an arranged marriage between our family lines in order to have an heir with stronger claims to the throne despite that he is already third-in-line after lady Maedhros,” Maeglin said in a serious voice. As Eöl sent Maeglin away to forge the traditional engagement earrings which an engaged couple in the Metal clan would share until the wedding date, Finwë sighed.

“I need to write an offical statement about this betrothal and order it to be revealed late next spring when you both are as far away from Tirion as you can be and people do not get much time to complain that it is immoral to let you marry each other.”

A moment of quiet, then the High King spoke in a quiet voice:

“I can name several courtiers who is going to be _pissed_ over that they lost a chance to get a royal law-son before it even was possible once he came of age.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

A couple of days later, when the first shock over the unexpected marriage request had passed, they held a small and private family dinner to celebrate the betrothal.

“Is it all right that we hold the wedding in Formenos? Just with the family around? Given what a scene people made when they found out that Rog was going to be Ammë's second husband, I do not want something similar to happen at this wedding…” Rûsa spoke carefully once the dessert was carried in by the palace servants. Mumblings in agreement was heard from several others in the royal family, not least Rog and Maedhros herself.

“Fair point. The last thing we need is a minor army of wedding crashers who will interrupt you two in the middle of the wedding vows and scream that you are about to commit an unforgivable sin by marrying an another,” Aegnor said and he was not the only one present to shudder at the mental image of that.

“Perhaps we might find a new reason to dust off our old weapons and armor just in case for that,” suggested Celegorm with a almost wolfish grin, earning a smack in the back of his head from Aredhel.

“No thanks to that, silly cousin. Maeglin, are the engagement earrings done?”

“Yes, I finished them yesterday.”

Placing a small wooden box on the table beside her plate, Maeglin revealed what she had done. No one was surprised to see that she had first created a eight-rayed silver star as the shape and then adding four sapphires on each earring.

“Silver for the Star of Fëanor, sapphires for the House of Haru Ñolofinwë and the number of four gemstones because we are both of the fourth generation in this royal family even if we were born in different branches.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, it was a good division of the different symbols to their Houses and their status. After that she had fastened one earring in his left ear and he the other one in her right ear it was Rûsa's turn to show the betrothal necklace he had done for Maeglin. It was a fashionable crescent-moon necklace, created by a mixed black and dark red choker and an turquoise stone forming the centerpiece.

“A crescent moon as a symbol for a new beginning in our lives, along with the closest coloured fabric I could find for our hair colours,” Rûsa explained with a very tender look on his beloved bride-to-be as he fastened the necklace around her neck as a official sign of a betrothal between them. Everyone was too focused on them to notice how Celebrimbor and Narvi was having a very quiet yet heated discussion in Khuzdul about how much the three pieces of betrothal jewellery would be worth by Dwarven standards, and that Frëja added in a couple of comments or questions to her parents as well.

“All right, everyone, let us have a toast for the future bride and groom,” requested Finwë with a smile as he rose from his chair with his glass in hand. Everyone took their glasses as well.

“ _For the hope of a future!_ ”

And naturally, it was always one of the children to try and sneak some forbidden wine from the adults when they did not see it because they were focused on the toast.

“Frëja!” scolded Celebrimbor in worry at seeing what his daughter was trying to drink, since he and Narvi had a agreement to not let her drink any alcohol outside some low-alchol Dwarven beer before she was twenty-five. The reason was that since Frëja was the first and currently only known child born between a Elven parent and a Dwarven parent, they did not know how she could react to things like Elflings or Dwarflings in the same age group.

“Stubbon girl…” groaned Narvi as she quickly took the wine glass away from their child and Celebrimbor gently placed his hand on Frëja's forehead to prevent her from trying to take back the glass from her mother. Seeing his own two children trying to use the same trick, Rog placed the wine bottle out of their reach since Maedhros was busy with holding Lówen.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: That so called “look of doom” belonging to the House of Fingolfin was a minor joke that was created at seeing Elrond’s reaction when Marry and Pippin insisted on coming to Mordor as well in the Council of Elrond. Hugo Weaving is just too funny in that scene! Extra credit to the very skilled tumblr-artist Idahlart who made a GIF of young Elrond turning around with that exact look in his eyes and eyebrows, so if one just imagine Fingolfin with that kind of look when he looks at Rûsa, you have pinned his exact reaction XD


	29. Their sacred night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding is finally here, but will the happy couple in question be able to overcome the past from Angband and have a enjoyable wedding night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Fair warning to you readers, the last third of this chapter is pretty mature because of the stuff that tends to happen on a wedding night!

Year 111 of the Fourth Age. It was now summer time, and all around Formenos it was full of lif.  

“Sit still, those wedding braids are a bit complex to do…last time I did it, was for my own wedding to Aredhel...geez, did the All-Father grant you a similar thickness on the hair as a Dwarf because of how stubbon you are at times?” muttered Eöl as he fixed some of Rûsa's thick hair into a several smaller braids around his head that male Dwarves had on their wedding day. Seeing that Eöl had been taken in as a young Elfling by a childless Dwarven couple after the attack on the Metal clan under Sauron's lead, it was only natural that he had picked up some Dwarven customs during the years he had lived with them and it was also a lesser custom in the Metal clan that the father of the bride would make a small braid in his future law-son's hair as a sign of welcoming him into the family.

“Good question…” Rûsa laughed nervously, trying not to move his head or Eöl would only scold him for messing up the work he had done fo the past hour. He was not afraid of his soon-to-be unusual law-father, even if he did admit that Eöl was a bit grumpy by Elven standards. While waiting on thet Eöl would be finished, Rûsa instead looked on the golden borders on the sleeves of his emerald-green Jubba that he had worn the year before on his coming-of-age ceremony; it was only natural that a groom would wear his best and most expensive clothing at his wedding.

“I was and still am serious when I say that I think you are the best match for my only child and daughter. Ever since Maeglin was reborn, she had to deal with the negative reputation history has given her because she was forced to betray Gondolin. Still, the fact that she is of royal blood by her mother did not prevent that she has been having her share of unpleasant suitors.”

“ ** _What?!_ ** ”

All right, that was some news for Rûsa. He could understand that Maeglin must have been admired a bit in Gondolin for several things, despite how things had been with Eöl and Aredhel right before their deaths in the First Age. And then everything with Angband and the Fall of Gondolin must have ruined it...

“A-are you sure about that?”

“Do I look like I am joking? Of course she would have suitors before you, even in the First Age. But after her rebirth, about 90 % of those idiots mostly did it to mock her and make Maeglin feel like she never would be worthy of love. That she also felt like your forced coupling had tainted her, did not help much. It is true that I had trouble to relate with her during the last years in Nan Elmoth, but it was a difficult time for all three of us. Maeglin was in adolescence and started to feel confined as she only had left Nan Elmoth a few times to come with me to the Dwarves, Aredhel was homesick to see her family again and I was terrified over that I might lose them both if I allowed them to leave. Back then, I had not really been able to let go of the trauma of losing my birth family and Clan to the Dark Lord, so I feared that it would happen again, this time with  my own wife and daughter…”

Rûsa did not say anything himself as he listened on what Eöl said. In a way, he could understand him. Just the mere thought of losing his family to the claws of Sauron or Morgoth was enough of a nightmare in itself. And now, when he knew how freedom truly was like, the happy feeling of being able to live without the constant fear for punishment or worrying when he would be able to get his next meal, Rûsa really had no wish to return to the harsh life of a slave. One life-time like that was more than enough.

“Now, remain still, brat, I need to bind the last two braids together in the back of the head!”

Rûsa had grown used to hearing Eöl calling the younger generations in the family for brats at times as a grumpy way of showing that he did actually care for them in his own way.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As a wedding dress, Maeglin wore a royal purple sari with silver embroidery. It was meant as a symbol for her royal blood and the small fact that she was born in a minor branch of the Noldor royal family. She and Rûsa had chosen to have a very private wedding ceremony, with only their closest family members as witnesses. After all, since they tried to keep their betrothal and marriage secret until that the marriage bond had been consummated and the moral guardians would be unable to prevent it from happening.

“Look at you, sweetie. Dressed like a bride and about to be married,” smiled Aredhel as she helped Maeglin to finish braiding the white roses into her hair.

“It feels so odd...Rûsa may be born 338 Years of the Sun before me, and yet...I am older by him in our second lives because I was reborn in the Second Age…really, a age difference on 4775 years?”

“And you were 109 years old when you first met him, who was aged 537 if I have counted right,” commented Maedhros from the door as she put down  Lówen on the floor. Her youngest daughter was now little over a year old and understandable curious about all the fuss for the wedding. With a tiny giggle, the little girl hurried over to her soon-to-be law-sister and gently tugging on her skirt to get attention.  

“Maeglin! Can I have a flower in my hair too? Pleeease?”

Knowing that Lówen had a habit of repeating a request until someone gave in, Maeglin took a spare rose and put it in her golden platinum blonde hair.

“Thank you!”

The toddler hurried around in the room, happy over getting a white rose in her hair as well. Smiling in apology, Maedhros tried to catch her second-born daughter again before she did something that could harm herself.

“All right, Lówen, time for you to stop playing for a little while before you happen to do something of a mess to the fine dress…”

As Maedhros left with her daughter, Maeglin said:

“I hope that whenever Rûsa and I have our first child in the future, he or she will be a little more calm or at least quiet in personality.”

Aredhel refused to remind Maeglin that she had been a very quiet child during her first years of life. But then, every child was different in personality.

“And I think it is very mature of you two to not have children right away after the wedding. Some couples do manage it, but for others it can be rather difficult to handle both the love of a husband or wife and on the same time dealing with the demands of very small children. It is not like that you are in a hurry to get heirs to the throne, anyway,” commented Fingon, who knew what he was talking about. After that Fingolfin had became High King, there had been pressure on him to marry and have children given that it had been a very serious risk of losing a warrior king as Fingolfin in battle, which had became true in the most horrible way none could have foreseen. As honorable a duel against the Dark Lord himself was, Fingon was not the only one who had wished in secret that his father could have waited a little more with a such stunt because of how young Gil-galad had been at his own death.

“Thanks for that, uncle.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

They had chosen to have the wedding ceremony in the forenoon, so it would not be too early in the morning and yet not too late in the day. They had requested to be alone in a small forest grove inside one of the smaller forests around Formenos, as a outdoor wedding ceremony was better fitted for the soon-to-be married couple in question.

“I have placed some of the city guards and the best warriors in the Wood clan around the forest, just in case some of the worst moral guardians are trying to storm over here…” whispered Fëanor to Nerdanel, showing her a short letter they had gotten from Ingwë about several of the most pious Vanyarin Elves were on their way to Formenos; he had not been quick enough to hide his letter about the coming marriage between Rûsa and Maeglin.

“Well, he could not help that one of them was in his office when he got the letter. No doubt that he tried to hide it but was not fast enough.”

They all knew that Ingwë and the most pious Vanyarin Elves did not agree on several things anymore, especially on why Vanyarin youngesters seemed to have it much more difficult to marry with the Noldor and Teleri ever since the Avari clans and other elves who had not done the Great Journey had started to show up in Valinor. The event with Vanë twenty-one years earlier, where she had tried to marry Rûsa by coercion, had really made that chasm deeper than what the moral guardians were willig to realize or even admit.   

“Well, he did promise in this letter that he would give them a good piece of his mind about this when they return, at least. And please send him something as a sign on we do not hold him responsible for what they might try to do to prevent  me and Maeglin from marrying,” Rûsa requested as he helped Yuë to add some lip balm on his lips for some protection against the sun.

“Do not worry, Rûsa, we will do that...oh, here is your lovely bride coming with her parents.”

As he stood up, it was just in time to see Maeglin arrive in her full trousseau. A bride veil of white tulle had been fastened in the back of her head with a silver hair-pin and a dark purple ribbon, allowing her black hair to fall freely over her back and she held a small bridal bouquet of white and red roses in her right hand.

“You...look wonderful…” Rûsa mumled with a rather heavily blush. Maeglin just smiled back at him for the words, enjoying how boyish he seemed for a short moment, and touched his cheek with her free hand as she did not really reach up to kiss him. Then, she asked Saira to hold the bouquet for her during the wedding vows. Rûsa took her hand in his right hand, seeing that he held her wedding ring in his dominant hand.

“ _Constant as the sea, the sun and the moon is my love for you. Like a mountain protecting the woods, and the woods the mountain in return, we shall cover each other's back. Let me be your sword and your shield as you will be mine, for we are one. As a river will seek out the ocean, I will forever live for your happiness and to make it complete. From the dawn of time, when the All-Father created everything in His Song, to beyond the Second Music, I takes you as my wife._ ”

At the last word, Rûsa placed the golden ring on Maeglin's left ring finger. Then, as she placed his wedding ring on his finger, she said:

“ _As the sea slowly slips upon the shore, so will I always hold you dear; as the sun appears with every dawn, so will my love always shine on you. Whatever lies ahead, good or bad, we shall face together. Distance may test us at times, yet we shall keep together in body and spirit. Respecting each other, we commit to live our lives together for all the days to come. I ask of you to share this world with me, for good and ill, be my partner, and I shall ever remain yours. Look to me for all the days to come, as I take my place as your wife and you to be my husband._ ”

They finished the ceremony by switching out the betrothal ear-rings from a year earlier to a set of marriage ear-rings, in their case silver earrings with emeralds shaped like a single star.

“Rûsa, take this as a marking of becoming the husband of Maeglin,” said Eöl and held up a sword in its scabbard. As Rûsa carefully unshelded the sword, the black blade of Anguirel was revealed.

“Ada, this…!” started Maeglin in surprise over seeing that the sword had actually survived the Fall of Gondolin. Sure, she had used it to defend herself before Idril had dragged her along into the hidden tunnel the House of the Mole had helped to build in order to have a escape way when Morgoth finally attacked the hidden city, but she had lost it just before her suicide.

“Tuor managed to save it and bring it over here to Valinor when he and Idril sailed here. Then they gave it back to me, as they believed that seeing the sword again too soon after your rebirth would only trigger up unpleasant memories,” Eöl answered with a small side-glace on said couple. Rûsa could not help but hiding a smile at hearing his law-father mutter for himself:

“Running off with her mother and stealing the most important part of her dowry...silly girl…”

Maeglin blushed deeply and refused to see her mother in the eyes when she too heard what Eöl said for himself. Rûsa choose to distract her with a chaste kiss on the cheek, much to the friendly teasting from the younger family members.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

They managed to enjoy about three hours together on the wedding feast afterwards, before they got the first warning that the moral guardians was getting closer to Formenos. As Rûsa and Maeglin was not the only couple to get married this fine summer day, sharing the wedding day with four other newely-wedded couples, their families had a perfect excurse for being present in the celebration as guests like the rest of the city.

“They are about a hour away...Rûsa, Maeglin, looks like you need to leave now before they come any closer to here.”

“Yes, grandfather.”

Two of the fastest horses in Formenos had already been prepared for them earlier, so after a quick change to more riding-suited clothing they were ready to leave.  

“Here. I have packed some items that could help you both later,” said Elrond and handed Maeglin a small package to have in the saddle-bag. The young couple did not need any explanation of what he meant. After all, the was the consummation of the marriage that would made them bonded for life and the last thing they needed was a repetition of the events surrounding their first meeting back in the First Age.

“Thank you.”

With a promise that they would try and be back in about three days' time, Rûsa and Maeglin rode away from Formenos.

“At least Taurion promised to try and block the moral guardians from coming closer.”

 

It did take little over a hour before several riders showed up about ten kilometers from Formenos.

“Just what is the Noldorin royal family thinking?! Allowing those two to marry when they are too close relatives!”

“Indeed, can they not see what kind of grave sin they will commit…”  

Suddenly, without warning, a much larger group of warriors from the Wood clan showed up and surrounded them, even holding their long spears against them as a warning against any movements.

“Your King and Lord Ingwë managed to get a letter sent away from Formenos before you even had left the city. He is not too pleased with the fact that you planned to ruin the happy day of a young couple in love when they have their wedding day,” spoke Taurion in a less than happy voice as he came up, having followed the warriors along to find the Vanyarin Elves.

“Now, come along back to Valmar quietly without making a fuss and we do not have to be tough.”

“What!? You have no right to…”

Remembering Ingwë's quickly written-down warning about the long rants that those moral guardians was infamous for, Taurion nodded to his men to make them silent. A carefully measured yet heavy dose of hypnotics, used in handkerchiefs, quickly made them quiet as they fell into a forced sleep.

“No wonder Ingwë wrote that we might need to use ear plugs of cotton while escorting them back to him,” one of his middle sons commented, earning several nods in agreement about that.  

“Yes, we better get them back as soon as we can before they wake up again in a few hours.”

Taking the reins to lead the horses which now had sleeping riders on them, Taurion rode in the front of the group towards Valmar.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By now, Rûsa and Maeglin had found the large wedding tent that had been put up for them to use.

“They really have thought of everything...shall we see what Elrond packed in that package?”

“With him being a healer, I am sure that he must have something that could help for the wedding night...oh?”

It was several small items inside the package. Opening one small jar, Maeglin found a jasmine-scented cream that, according to a small note, would be used to slowly numb her womanhood about three hours before any sexual contact and by that lessen the pain that a bride tended to suffer during the consummation of her marriage. There was a also a generous vial of oil that Rûsa could use. None of them was surprised over that Elrond had packed and prepared so many different suggestions to help them have a enjoyable wedding night without it becoming more painful than needed. While they knew how to pleasure each other with their mouths and fingers without crossing over the thin line that would have made them married long before this, they were still grateful for any outside help.

“I can cook some tea if you want, there is no need to rush if the cream needs some time to have done its work.”

“Sure, I will be back soon.”

Rûsa pretended not to see the jar with the numbing cream in her hand as she went inside the tent. Instead he focused on boiling the water needed for the tea and, as he checked on what they could have to the tea, even found some freshly baked bread buns that he loved to buy in a particular bakery in Formenos. One of his many maternal reatives must have laid in a special order this for their wedding day. He had just finished to set the small table for two people when Maeglin came back.

“It smells wonderful. You really are good at cooking,” she said with a smile as she sat down. Rûsa blushed faintly at her praise, feeling happy over that he had shown some skills in making food already at his first cooking lessons given by his uncles when he was much younger.

“Thank you, beloved.”

While eating the light meal, they took the chance to simply relaxing and enjoy time together. They also took the change to discuss and plan for how their married life would be. Knowing already how Maeglin had enough work as a blacksmith to be able to be the main breadwinner of them, along with how Rûsa's skills in painting and drawing could serve as an extra income by selling his artwork, they were in agreement that he could be a house-husband. And he was not the only one of their common friends to be in a such family role.

“Personally, I think staying at home and be a home-artist would help you relax and be free of what others might say about you while you work. And you can get extra food sometimes by hunting with Snowflake.”

“Aye, I am already having a request from Ingwë to paint a night painting that can be soothing for a baby. I believe it is meant for the nursey of his newest great-grandchild that will be born in the winter.”

Maeglin chucked and leaned against his shoulder. Placing down his own tea cup on the table, Rûsa kissed her forehead. As he glaced down, Maeglin gave him a surprise kiss on the lips. That her black braid was partly undone as well, was a unspoken signal to him about what she wished. Giving her a faint nod, Rûsa rose to his feet and followed her to the stream close-by to wash off themselves a bit.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

To create a more relaxing mood inside the sleeping area of the tent they lit some incense so it would smell nice.

“Shall we start with a small body massage?”

“Good idea for a start.”

During the quick washing off earlier, they had both freed their hair out of the braids they had been wearing. And a body massage was always pleasant to get, as it helped them to relax a bit.

“How do you feel? Is the numbing cream for your womanhood working as it should?”

“I think it is pretty safe to say that Elrond never would do something half-way, not with his healing skills. After all, how would he not know about a maiden on her wedding night when he wedded Celebrian? Out of ten points on feeling, I would say that I am on a two now,” Maeglin teasted as a hint to how much the numbing cream had worked on her. As she spoke, she lowered down her right hand and touched him, making Rûsa gasp in surprise. Unlike what people might think because of his height his manhood was neither very long or very thick.

“Relax, take a deep breath. We have done this before,” Maeglin whispered gently at seeing him tense up in his whole body at the touch. While Rûsa gladly would bring her pleasure, he could sometimes be uncomfortable with be given the same because of his past life as a slave in Angband. He knew that she would never hurt him on purpose, but some things never really left the back of his mind. Surrendering to someone, even in such an intimate situation meant being vulnerable, and if you wanted to stay alive you just couldn’t afford that back then.  He trusted her like none other and still his old instincts were hard to beat. She smiled, ignoring her own nervous heartbeat and slight shivering and leant over for a swift kiss.

“Let me massage you first, is that all right with you?”

Rûsa nodded, he wanted to make her feel safe and protected and if that meant that he had to be completely submissive then be it. He rolled over on his stomach while she grasped the oil and poured some of it onto his back and it made him hiss slightly since the oil was a bit cold. Maeglin giggled, then she started spreading the oil over his skin and marveled at the contrast between his hard muscles and smooth silky skin. He was so different from who he had been in Angband, the scrawny malnourished and mistreated _ner_ had really become a true gem and she felt a deep gratitude for being the one he loved. Rûsa closed his eyes and just sighed with pleasure, it felt so good being massaged and she took her sweet time, made sure that every muscle was relaxed and soft. But other parts of him were far from soft right now and he started to feel rather affected by her closeness. He could smell her, and her hands were so soft and gentle and yet they did awaken him now in a way they never had before. Knowing that this was it, that they were going to consummate their marriage sort of heightened his senses and made everything so much more exciting.  He was aching all of a sudden and couldn’t help but pressing himself down against the blanket he lay on, he had never felt such need, such hunger.  

“Mmm…”

Maeglin had been given some good advice from her mother and others too, and she was going to put them to good use. After all, she didn’t want this to be any more difficult than it had to be and she was nervous, she had to admit it. She could still remember it, that terrible moment when she realized that the Dark Lord would force that masked _ner_ to couple with her, and that there was nothing she could do to prevent it from happening. She would never be that helpless again, and she knew enough now to be able to turn the situation into one that hopefully would be more pleasurable for them both. Sometimes it is a good thing to have other females to ask for advice.

“You are like a forbidden fruit one just wants to taste despite being told that it is forbidden, do you know that?”

She planted a soft kiss at the back of his neck, then she continued kissing her way down his spine and felt him start to shiver, she felt a strange sort of thrill doing this, a sort of new strength within. She was breaking new ground so to speak and exploring him in a way she never had dared to before and the result was rather obvious. She let her teeth nip slightly at his muscular rear and Rûsa gasped loudly and turned his head around, stared at her with shock written all over his face.

“Maeglin?!”

She had to giggle and smile, one of the things she had been told could be a smart trick was to make him come at least once before they really started for real, just to let him blow of some steam and get more in control of himself and she already knew that he was rather close. She knew him that well by now and had learned to read his reactions. After all, they had been sharing a few but rather amorous moments without taking it too far and that had told her a lot about him.  She needed him to be calm when the moment came and they were to be as one, if not it could turn a bit nasty no matter how they went at it. The bad memories still haunted them both and she wanted this to be a special moment, a memory to erase the bad ones.

“Move over a bit, please.”

She grasped onto his shoulder and turned him over so he lay on his side, facing her, then she kissed him deeply and heard him moan into the kiss. It felt strangely good, knowing she was giving him such joy, she really wanted him to have a marvelous time and so she reached down and started to caress him again, slowly but with determination and Rûsa went rigid and arched against her touch before he started to shudder and threw his head back, groaning.

“ _Lómiel…!_ ”

Maeglin swallowed hard, seeing him come undone was in a way a humbling experience, he would never have let anyone else see him so vulnerable, and the sight also added to her own desire.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

When he finally managed to catch his breath he gave her a shy grin, his dark eyes still slightly matted and his skin flushing. He was gorgeous like that, and she wanted to see him in this state again and again, until the very end of all things.

“You little minx.”

She giggled again and laid down next to him.

“Now you can massage me.”

He nodded and now it was her turn to feel hands caressing her skin, slowly and with such gentleness. Since he had already felt the relief of a release he wasn’t in a hurry now and could just enjoy exploring and caressing, making her as ready as possible. He was giving her every inch of skin his full attention and now he could go further than before without being afraid of having his base instincts take control of him. It was a new sort of freedom, and Rûsa wanted her to feel pleasure too so he did all that he could to please her. The numbing cream had a strong effect so her nether regions weren’t that sensitive now but her breasts were and he couldn’t help but think of them as absolute perfection. Maeglin felt as if her skin was on fire, in a good way, she wasn’t shy when she was with him, nor did she feel as if she had to be anything else than who she really was. After all, he knew her better than anyone else and the bond they already shared allowed them to tune in on each other’s feelings rather well.

“I really hope that it will go well…”

He could remember that day in Angband too, the feeling of being helpless, and the horror of it all. It was not as it ought to have been and he remembered that he had hurt her. Knowing that he would cause her pain yet again was not all that pleasant but it would only be this once, then he would do all that he could to repay her for her sacrifice in every way possible. He too had been given good advice and knew how to please a female, at least in theory.  He was sure they would have a great life together, once they just got through this first time. Maeglin knew she was ready, her body had reacted to his touches and she knew that it would be different this time, she was well prepared, she wanted it and there were nobody there forcing them into coupling. They could move forth at their own chosen pace.

“Come over here.”

She turned around and made him sit up, then she sat down onto his thighs, facing him. She had found that she loved kissing him and he was good at it too, every kiss made her every nerve tingle and his hands were rather eager now. Rûsa was ready again and she used some of the oil on him, it made him gasp and pant but she didn’t continue for long, only long enough to make sure he was well oiled up in case her natural mechanisms weren’t enough. The pain she had felt that day in Angband was still in her mind, it had been horrible but this would be so very different and she wasn’t really afraid, just a bit nervous but she guessed that it was something she had in common with every female the first time they are to be with someone for real.  She longed for that perfect union now, to be one with him and be sure of the fact that nobody ever would be able to break them apart. She could see it in  his eyes that he too was ready and so she slid a little closer to him and engaged in another eager and yet loving kiss. She sort of got herself into position and used her hand to guide him right and Rûsa gasped when he sensed her entrance and his eyes got huge, she could see the whites in them all around his black irises.

“Beloved, are you sure you are ready?”

His voice was trembling with both nervousness and desire and it made her shiver, she nodded and put her arms around his neck, being glad he wasn’t as huge as some might have guessed. It could be bad enough as it was, but she had been riding horses and been active in every way so she couldn’t be that tight. If she had been some spoiled inactive Vanyarin maiden it would be way worse, she had heard some horror stories about how such wedding nights could be for the unprepared bride and mentally praised Eru that she was nowhere near acting like those prissy pious Vanyar. Not to mention that her parents would have been less than pleased and forced her to stop acting in a such way from a young age, her great-grandmother Indis might be a Vanyarin Elf but the Noldor- and Avari blood was dominant in her.

“I am sure my love, I am yours, as you are mine, forever.”

She caught his gaze as she slowly sat down and let him slide into place gradually and the short moment of resistance was something she barely registered. Of course it did feel odd at first, as if she was being stretched in a whole new way and that was exactly what happened too but it wasn’t very painful. Elrond’s gift had done its job and the oil had come in handy too, it was just so unfamiliar and strange. Rûsa gasped as he could feel it too, that something seemed to give way and for a short moment he feared to hurt her but she didn’t seem to feel any pain, she looked more intrigued than in agony.  He fought against the overwhelming sense of pleasure, since he didn’t want to enjoy it if she didn’t as well, but Maeglin sort of made that choice for him when she started to move her hips. That made her gasp for it did feel slightly uncomfortable at first but at the same time she felt filled and complete and it was all that she could ever want, they were one.  

“Maeglin…!”

Rûsa held onto her, supporting her with strong hands and they both whispered their vows to the All-Father, letting their bonding become complete as their souls merged and rejoiced in the love they felt.  It was overwhelming, soul shaking and beyond description, so unlike that forced bond. There had been no pleasure in that coupling, not even for him. He had come but it had been an almost mechanical response brought on by the drugs he had been forced to take. This was so different, this was sacred and Maeglin opened her mind and let his ecstasy pull her along into an explosion of emotions. When they came to they laid there on their side, arms and legs tangled and both in tears from sheer awe.  Maeglin got pulled closer into his embrace, none of them spoke for words were useless now, they could not even begin to describe their emotions. The horrible memories of their first and forced bonding in Angband was all but erased by new and precious ones. Tender caresses along their faces and hair were exchanged with faint, exhausted kisses and slowly fatigue and the long day overcame them and both fell asleep, safely in each other’s arms. In their shared dream about how their first meeting in the First Age could have been, the young heiress of Nan Elmoth was given a flower crown by the visiting son of the Noldorin High Queen as a sign of offering her his friendship.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: One Year of the Trees are nine Years of the Sun according to Tolkiengateway, so logically it would add eighteen years to Rûsa's age since he is born in Years of the Trees 1498, making him 338 years older than Maeglin who is born in Year 320 of the First Age in both canon and the Warg Rider-AU. I also had Maeglin be reborn in the year 1697 of the Second Age, which continued for 1744 more years. Add in the 3021 years of the Third Age along with the first 10 years of the Fourth Age and Maeglin would officially be 4775 years older than Rûsa since they try to hide his past as the Warg Rider by claiming that he was begotten in year 10 of the Fourth Age. So logically, Rûsa is about 705 years old mentally while he biologically is 101 years old in this chapter.


	30. Not a normal wedding gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not every wedding gift is what they seems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: For those who has read chapter 7 in my other story An Open Door, you will know what Dwarven ritual Celebrimbor will mention in this chapter.

Two months passed. Summer went into early autumn, letting all of Valinor enjoy a unsually fine season. For Rûsa and Maeglin, it seemed like an ideal honeymoon for them. They spent most of the summer travelling together to different places all around Valinor, only the two of them and Snowflake. But it did not mean that they left their families behind in some way, they tried to visit them from time to time.

“How is life for you as a married couple? Not too many problems from other people about the fact that you are distant relatives?” asked Aredhel one day when her daughter and law-son had taken the chance to travel with the Metal clan to Valmar as they had been invited by Ingwë for a short visit since he had not been a guest at their wedding.

“It is going well, most people are keeping their thoughts to themselves because of the very good family warnings about what might happen if they protest too much...ah?”

Without any warning, the earlier calm rain suddely became a very heavy downpour of rain which fell from the sky.

“You two, get to the royal palace right away as we are just outside the city walls of Valmar at the moment! The sooner you get there, the faster you can get into dry clothing!” ordered Eöl from his place among the riders, to which the young couple nodded in agreement.

“See you, if not earlier then at the winter solstice in Formenos at the longest!” said Maeglin as farewell while she and Rûsa rode though the open city gates.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Inside the palace, Ingwë and his queen Isilmiel was enjoying a free moment with some of their youngest great-grandchildren, who were drawing a portrait of them with crayons, when some new voices was heard:

“Sorry about Snowflake…”

“It is all right, my lord, we have had worse with a full pack of pets coming inside to get dry,” answered a servant in a calm voice.  

“At least she had some sense to shake off the water just outside the door before we entered the palace, honey.”

As Ingwë rose from his chair to greet his two guests, he could tell that they would need some time in the bath chambers to freshen up thanks to the heavy rain outside.

“Welcome to Valmar, my young guests….goodness, I hope that the rain was not a too great surprise out of the blue?”

“No, sire. It just became a bit extra heavy just as we arrived to the city,” explained Rûsa as he carefully tried to not leave too much rain water in small pools on the expensive carpets since both his own and Maeglin's travel clothes were dripping wet even if they had tried to wipe of the worst with towels offered by the servants. No need to make extra cleaning work for the palace servants just because it was raining so hard outside.

“Come, let's get you two freshed up before dinner,” offered Isilmiel gently as she took Maeglin with her. Nodding in agreement to what his wife had said, Ingwë bid Rûsa to follow him.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

An unexpected surprise revealed itself in the large bath chamber, which was one of the few mixed-baths in Valmar as Ingwë found separate baths for both genders to be somewhat expensive in the cost for needed wood and water unless it were very many guests on visit to his palace.

“Hi there, cousin!” greeted Celebrimbor from the heated pool with a hand wave, Narvi and Frëja also being there.

“Hello…” said Rûsa in mild shock at seeing them, sharing a reaction with Maeglin when she came out from the female dressing room.

“I have a little order for a new marble statue from this Lord and Lady. So that is why we travelled here. We arrived here in the forenoon today,” explained Narvi with a small laugh at seeing their shocked faces. Without a word, Rûsa and Maeglin entered the bathing pool after the two Vanyarin royals. It surprised the young couple to see that both Ingwë and Isilmiel actually had some very faded clan tattoos on their bodies, memories of a time where the Elves had lived a much more simple and far more dangerous life than what they did now. Some minutes of silence, while Celebrimbor helped his daughter to comb her long hair. Finally,  Isilmiel asked:

“Pardon me if I am rude or is stepping over a line now, but...how do you deal with everyday life when you have a beard?”

Narvi looked surprised at the question, and had to think over her answer for some minutes so it would not sound odd for the Vanyarin queen.

“In many ways, it is just like normal hair, but you need to be a little extra mindful close to fire and such as the beard has to be protected from injury. It is custom for Dwarven blacksmith to have shorter beards because of their occupation, the same with cooks and other tasks that have a lot of fire or knives in the daily working. Just like hair, beards takes a lot of time to grow back.”

Celebrimbor smiled at the memory her words brought back.

“I remember the first time I saw Narvi go thought the mourning ritual...it was a shock, really, to see her willingly cut off her long hair and beard when I knew just how much pride a well-grown and well-cared beard is for the Dwarves. Then again, seeing that her father Balder had died just a few days earlier and she had not been able to get the proper items for cutting her hair and beard while we were on the road, it is no wonder she could not do it sooner.”

“Grandfather Balder said that he knew mom was going to be safe when he saw the half-faded silver star on atto's tunic and thanks to that, he was able to go to the Halls of the Forefathers in peace despite that he could not thank atto for the help!” Frëja suddenly informed in a rather loud voice from where she was svimming around in a more shallow corner of the pool, causing her parents to hush her a bit. Rûsa laughted softly, before drinking a goblet filled with ice-water that had been placed in the bath chamber so they did not become dehydrated by the hot bath water.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

There was still some time for relaxing after the bath, which they also used to have some general small talk without being overheard by servants. Because it was some people who saw the marriage between Rûsa and Maeglin as one of the biggest scandals in Aman, especially in the Noldorin royal family, after all the chaos about Finwë getting a second wife in Indis along with the well-known old feud between their maternal grandfathers about being the real heir to their common father, any sight of something that could reveal them as having an unhappy marriage would be used against them by their enemies.  

“I might be one of the first generations born after the Elves first Awakened, but at times I would like some more signs of that…” muttered Ingwë for himself while rolling one of his golden-blonde locks around a finger. Hearing that, Frëja began immediately with the task of braiding his hair.

“I know some tricks Amad does with Atto when she braids his hair and wants him to look older.”

Chucking at what her daughter planned to do, Narvi showed Isilmiel how a Elf could do an false beard by using the mass of hair which Elves have. Using some of her own small hair clasps to keep it together, Narvi soon had created a small net of delicate small braids which she fastened to make it look like the Vanyarin queen had a beard.

“There, now you look like a almost fully proper Dwarrowdam. Only some full-size sidebums and mustache missing...oh?”

Rûsa and Celebrimbor both had to hide a laugh at the sight. Because Frëja had less experience in braiding and worked so quickly with her small hands, Ingwë ended up with a rather messed-looking false beard, looking as if he had tried to braid together several large braids to a beard. The Dwarrowdam and her husband's redhaired cousin shared a silent agreement in what they would have for motive on their next creations, seeing that this surely was something that could be needed to make Ingwë and Isilmiel have a good laugh in the middle of some boring meeting or when they had to listen on the moral guardians nagging about “improper” things again.    

~X~X~X~X~X~X

After the dinner, Rûsa and Maeglin went back to their guest chamber. Since Ingwë knew how annoying the bells of Valmar could be for outsiders, the guest chambers for the other royal families in Valinor had been reinforced with extra thick walls and ceiling to dampen the sound of the bells calling to prayer.

“I will make those drawings of them with the false beards to the New Year as a private gift, I believe that they needs something to laugh about once in a while with having to rule over the most pious Elves in Valinor.”

“And Narvi will very likely make two head busts of them in the same manner too,” laughted Maeglin as she closed the door to get them some privacy for the remainer of the evening. From the window, which was open to let in some fresh air despite the rain, a greeting bark could be heard from Snowflake as she had gotten a larger-built doghouse just below that window. On the bed, some new items had been placed by the servants earlier.

“Oh, those must be the wedding gifts Ingwë and Isilmiel mentioned to be from their family and which they could not send away in time for the wedding because our planned marriage was kept a secret from people outside the family almost until the wedding date.”

It was some beautiful silk robes in a sky-blue colour, some matching jewelry made in silver for both of them and embroidered portrait of their respective families.

“Hm…? This is odd, I can not find anything from Ingwë...ah, there it was. Rûsa, look what we have gotten from Ingwë.”

It was a book, which had been partly hidden under one of the robes, explaining why they had not seen it at first. The title, written in gold on a green cover, read:

_The great book of Prayers, by Ingwë of the Vanyar_

“A prayer book? Really…?”

Rûsa mentally rolled his eyes at reading the title, not doubting for a moment that it must be the moral guardians who had made Ingwë write a such book a long time ago before it had become such problems in their own society. Sure, it could be some good prayers to the Valar written in the book, but for him and Maeglin who had very little experience of being a believer for different reasons from their first lives, this sort of book was not a very useful gift. Perhaps they could give it away to Turgon as a begetting-day gift to him in the next month, as he was one of the more pious members of the Noldorin royal family and there was a reason to why Eöl tended to call his middle law-brother a “over-pious, pompous peacock” as a insult.

“Hm?”

There was a small greeting from Ingwë on the next page:

_For the newly-weds! This for your bedroom… Love, Ingwë._

How in the world a prayer book would be useful in the bedroom, Rûsa had no idea. Perhaps Ingwë meant some prayers to the Valar for some outside help if a married couple ended up having a serious disagreement or something? Getting more curious, Rûsa opened the book at a random page. And ended up closing the book rather quickly with a loud sound, blushing so hard as if he had been sunburnt really badly by the sun. It was no prayer book at all, it was a well-covered sex guide!

“ ** _I will never be able to see Ingwë in the same way again! Ever!_ ** ” he thought for himself. Maeglin, who had been brushing her hair, gave him a questioning look at seeing his strange behaviour by using the mirror on the vanity table which she sat at.

“Is something wrong, Rûsa?” wondered Maeglin, making him only hold out the book to her without a word, still blushing heavily. At seeing what kind of book it actually was, she got a similar reaction.

“Let's just have a normal embrace in bed later...all right? We can check this out at a later date…” she asked in embarrassment, to which he nodded in agreement while she hid the book in one of the travel bags. Both of them suddenly felt grateful over that they had done their adult fun in bed the previous night and had planned to just take a small break now when they were visiting in someone else's home. Normally they did not do that kind of stuff between a married couple so often, for a good set of reasons, and actually enjoyed the way they had done up with to each other if they wanted to have some more adult fun in bed. Now Rûsa understood the deeper meaning of why the royal couple had said something about taking a small walk together despite the rain.   

“That old pervert....no doubt what he and Isilmiel is doing right now!”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rûsa was right. There was a secret cave a bit away from Valmar, so well hidden and guarded that none outside the family of Ingwë and Isilmiel knew about it. Right now, in this rain which covered the sun from being seen, the Vanyarin royal couple could pretend that they were back in Cuiviénen for a while as some of their most loyal servants had used diamonds in the cave roof to give a feeling of the starry sky.

“I think they should have found your so-called prayer book by now.”

Giving her husband a commanding kiss in a such manner which would have shocked those who insisted that a She-elf had to be passive in bed and focus on giving her husband children, Isilmiel tugged on his robes.

“Strip out of those horrible robes, beloved. They block what I want to see of you,” she spoke in a tempting soft voice while sitting down on a well-worn stone covered with a soft animal skin, moving her fingers along her leg upwards as a unspoken sign of what she wished. Ingwë smiled, a rather devilish smile that would have alarmed Finwë and Thingol back in their youth because Ingwë had married and gotten Isilmiel pregnant with Ingwion at an almost scandalous young age by the current standards about coming-of-age for the Elves.

“As my lady wife wishes.”

He needed some time to get out of the heavy robes, but Ingwë knew how to tease Isilmiel with a slow stripping during her wait on that he would free himself from the clothes. And what other way to troll the moral guardians was better than this, acting as back in their youth before the Great Journey?

“Would it not be fun to try for a fifth child, darling? It is already the Fourth Age of the Sun, after all.”

“Weeeeell...maybe, I can’t promise that I will have an easy time to get pregnant anymore as I was back in the Years of the Trees, though. But a third son or daughter would be a fun way of shocking the moral guardians for all their nagging that there is only one proper way to beget children on,” Isilmiel laughed in a false innocent voice at his words. Ingwë smirked, before he started to attack her face and whole body with tender kisses, slowly kneeling down on the ground to easier reach his goal on her body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Seeing that Narvi is a Dwarrowdam and Celebrimbor a Noldor Elf, I thought it might be logical if Frëja would adress them with “Amad”, the Dwarvish word for Mother in Neo-Khuzdul, and “Atto” in Quenya as a sign of belonging to two different cultures and races. So one can really imagine her babbling in a rather confusing mix of Quenya and Khuzdul as a baby and toddler before she had learned enough words to speak both languages. And yes, Ingwë is a secret pervert here!


	31. Hope for the future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes on, and lives will be changed sooner or later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Please notice that this is the second-to-last chapter in Tears of Blood! Only the epilogue left, good readers!

Time slowly passed on in Valinor. Months turned into years. Years into decades. During this time, the younger members in the fourth generation in the House of Fëanor came of age: 

Fifthy years after Rûsa himself, it was Maglor's daughter Lindë. Known already for a good singing voice like her parents, no one was too surprised to find out that she was offered a place as a singer at the court of Thingol and Melian. Well, some people said that it was more of Dior having fixed that because one of his twin sons was said to fancy Lindë, but no one was ever able to find if there was any truth and most people did agreed on that Lindë simply had a little extra luck in getting that place. 

“At least she is free from the former deeds of her father…”

“I hope that she has learnt from her family history how not to act...l mean, look at the females in her family…” 

No one really bothered to find out why some people was found beaten up for such comments later after that the fest had ended. After all, nowadays the House of Fëanor was very ashamed of their past actions in the First Age and would rather perfer that their own children was not judged by their actions. Celebrimbor had gotten more than enough of that in his first life, thank you very much.   

 

“One would think that people should have learnt by now to watch their tongue when our family is within ear-shot,” Rûsa said while he and Maeglin shared a bottle of apple cider from the Wood clan, watching from a balcony how some of the more rude guests was “escorted” out in a not too gentle way by some of the palace guards. 

“And naturally people look for the tiniest hint of our marriage being unhappy or that you have knocked me up all ready,” Maeglin muttered, leaning against his shoulder with her head and glaring on some court ladies who hade tried to sneak after her. Given how fertile the Noldorin royal family had been in the first two generations alone, it was no wonder that curious people wondered how long it would take for Maeglin to become pregnant. Others who was against the marriage, secretly hoped that they would be one of those couples to remain childless, for surely the All-Father would not allow Fëanor and Fingolfin to have a common great-grandchild when they were half-brothers?

“No way, we have barely been married for fifty years this summer! A couple of years more is not going to affect our chances to have children…” 

Giving her a questioning look first to check if it was all right, Rûsa then took the whole bottle in one hand and emptied it from the last cider in a single gulp.

“Nor will l have people say that we were matched in a arranged marriage between our family to heal that old feud between our materal grandfathers, or to beget a possible heir with unquestionable claim to the throne.” 

Rûsa rolled his eyes at hearing that, he was no stranger to hearing such rumours ever since he and Maeglin had married, but it was starting to get really annoying in the long run after nearly fifty years of marriage for them. Besides, he had officially been of age for just a year when he married Maeglin and being that young when becoming a father was not always the wisest of things, there were a lot of stories about very young parents which was not too pleasant to hear. After all, Elves was immortal so there was no need to have children so soon after the wedding. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Fifteen years later during the winter in Formenos, it was Cúwen who came of age. Infamous from a rather young age for being a independent young lady and something of a “wild beauty”, no one in her family was surprised to see people react in rather stunned shock over how beautiful Cúwen had became over the years. 

“Now they can not ignore the shared beauty between mother and daughters,” smiled Rog to Maedhros as they saw how Cúwen, dressed in a white and ice-blue dress to bring out her darker skin and orange-red mass of curly hair, politely but firmly refused yet another invitation to a dance. It was not that she was bad at dancing, not at all, Cúwen simply was not in the right mood for dancing at the current moment as she explained to the various youngesters who had offered her a small dance. 

“Rather unusually to be the one in focus for once, right, sister? Given that people often seems to set their eyes on our oldest brother because of who he married,” asked Lówen in a cheerful voice as she walked over to her older sister, holding up the long skirt on her pale lilace dress in her hands to not trip over the hem. Cúwen nodded, the younger siblings was used to that some people thought of  Rûsa as more than a wee bit immoral or at least strange-minded for marrying Maeglin who was a second-cousin. 

“At least brother and our law-sister are not first-cousins or I doubt that they would not have been allowed to marry.” 

The two sisters looked around in case someone of the guests was secretly troubling one of their brothers. They were not too fond of the rumours about Rûsa's marriage to Maeglin or that Yuë's sickly health along with him being an albino would make him unwanted as a possible bridegroom on the marriage market.

“As if poor Yuë would not have the same chance to marriage as everyone else...he cannot help what happened at his premature birth…”

Spotting that someone seemed on the way to bother their albino brother, Lówen hurried over to give him help if needed.  

 

Cúwen sighed and went out on the balcony for some fresh air. As she looked around on the streets that was covered in faint snow, she saw a movement from a corner on another house close-by. 

“Túrëo?” 

He had not wished to be among the guests for the feast, because of that he and his two brothers still feared to be remembered as their father's sons. As a silent answer, Túrëo carefully revealed himself by taking off his hood and came closer to where the balcony were. Even if he had gotten used to the metal leg Eöl and the Dwarves had crafted for him, Túrëo had made it a habit to use a walking stick in case he lost balance and risked tripping. 

“Happy coming-of-age, Cúwen. The sudden snowfall yesterday made me worry that I would not get to Formenos in time to give you this today.” 

He tossed up something in the air and Cúwen caught it in her hands. As she opened her hands again, the gift revealed itself to be a hair pin in the shape of a butterfly made in silver and the wings coloured with turquoise. It must have cost him a small fortune collected over several years, given that a skilled wood-cutter had a daily income on how much of his work he sold from one day from another and how hesitant the three brothers were to show themselves in Tirion where they once had lived. 

“It is beautiful, thank you.” 

To show how much she liked the gift, Cúwen fastened it in her hair right away so some of the curly hair was kept away from her face eaiser. Over the past years their unexpected friendship had only grown deeper and neither one doubted that it might turn into a very different set of feelings if they just gave it enough time. After all, it was only stupid to rush into things that would remain there fo the rest of their lives. 

“See you soon again, little princess.” 

With that greeting, Túrëo blew her a kiss with two fingers on his lips before he vanished among the houses again, leaving a very blushing Cúwen behind on the balcony.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

As once could expect, they did run into a minor problem the year when it was time for Yuë and Frëja to come of age. While they had been having a small private family feast for Frëja a couple of years earlier, since there was a couple of decades between the traditional Dwarven coming-of-age ritual at age 45 and the traditional Elven coming-of-age ceremony at age one-hundred, that was not the problem. No, the main problem was that logically, Yuë and Frëja had been begotten not too far from each other and therefore two larger feasts might be a bit too close in date. 

“Given that not everyone is not accepting the fact that my wife is a Dwarrowdam, I personally think it is not needed with a debuté ball for Frëja as she already is an adult by Dwarven standards,” said Celebrimbor from the coach where he was sitting with Narvi and Frëja on each side. Frëja had grown to an even mix of her parents, standing on 165 cm in height while her Dwarven blood made her noticeably more curvy than a She-elf and being more slender than a Dwarrowdam. 

“I think so too, I would rather not have our daughter be given hidden insults about her mixed blood on a such important event,” Narvi agreed with her Elven husband, crossing her arms as she spoke. At hearing that, Fëanor turned to the young lady in question: 

“We have heard your parents, but what do you think, Frëja?”

“Hmm…”

Frëja had to think after a little. In a way, her parents had a very good point. It would be very unpleasant with such insults about her lineage on what was supposed to be a joyful event. 

“I do not want to have a debuté ball.”  

Knowing already what his maternal grandfather was about to ask, Yuë shook in a rather terrified manner on his head, a pretty clear sign of what he thought about it all. 

_ Anything else expect the official coming-of-age ceremony, please!  _

Shy and withdrawn as he always had been for different reasons, the mute albino was not liking the idea of being in the centre for so many people at all. In a way, both of Maedhros's two sons had ended with some sort of social awkwardness, nor did either one of them enjoy being a person which many rumours was spun around behind their backs. 

“I think we are pretty clear on this, atto. No official coming-of-age ceremony for Yuë in Tirion or a debuté ball for Frëja later this autumn. Looks like you need to work extra hard on your own debuté ball in twenty years to get attention away from those two, dear Lówen,” sighed Maedhros. Lówen nodded, even if she had only been one year out of the womb at Rûsa's wedding to Maeglin and therefore did not have the same close bond to him as the two older siblings, not even she had not failed to see how different people treated her oldest brother if one was to check with the younger three siblings. 

“I will do my best, ammë.”

Seeing how Yuë was trembling slightly in his whole body of faint terror at the mere thought of going thought the same offical coming-of-age ceremony as Rûsa had done in front of all of Tirion eighty years earlier, Rûsa placed a hand on his shoulder and bent closer down to Yuë before he said: 

“We will fix a small private ceremony with only the family present, little brother, do not fear.”

Yuë gave Rûsa a grateful look over the kind words, his green eyes shining somewhat to the tears he nearly had shed in fright over the coming-of-age ceremony. Somehow, most likely related to his very premature birth, he had ended up on the short side for a Elf when it came to adult height, standing only on 150 cm in total height after finishing growing, and his rather thin body gave him a almost feminine appearance when standing beside Rûsa. 

“Yuë, Frëja, would you two please mind to write a letter each to the royal court in Tirion and explain the different reasons for you do not want an official coming-of-age event yourselves? Better for my father Finwë to hear it directly from you than risk people to say that we see neither one of you as important,” requsted Fëanor as Nerdanel picked up two parchments and two ink bottles along with two quills for them from a drawer in a cabinet to use for the letters to the Noldorin royal court.      

~X~X~X~X~X~X

After that Lówen had her own debuté ball twenty years later in the 210th Year of the Fourth Age, things seemed to quiet down around the House of Fëanor a bit. After all, it was pretty hard to create belivable scandals about the newest generation when they now was adults and could personally respond to whatever new rumour that was revealed to fly around about their family. Time passed again and decades slowly turned into centuries.

Middle of summer in the year 508 of the Fourth Age. Had it been any person or wild animal around the hot spring two voices, gasping for breath as if after a very heated kiss, could be heard. 

“Be still, silly…”

“Sorry. The water makes it extra slipperly to get a good hold on you, beloved mole-princess…” 

“Quit talking, Rûsa…” 

More noises. The sound of something big moving in the water. Then a long, slow moan of pleasure.  

“Yeeeees....right...there! Ah!”

Over the long years that they had been married, Rûsa and Maeglin had slowly grown more bold in bed, even if it did happen at times that he apologized to her for being somewhat boring in bed because he felt more comfortable with letting her take control. But Maeglin did answer that he was not boring at all, his old slave mind did make it difficult for Rûsa to be the dominant partner in love-making in fear of hurting Maeglin by mistake. Unbelieveable as it had been for them, the sex-guide from Ingwë did actually have a whole chapter for such problems in bed, offering them suggestions on how to deal with it. 

“Maeglin…!” 

Having learned to spot the signs of what to come, Maeglin caught Rûsa with both her arms and legs as he shuddered, holding him as close as she could get him from where she first had been placed on the ground with her legs still in the hot water for a easier position to give her pleasure. It brought a more common sense of enjoyment for them both, sharing the feeling in both body and soul as he came. 

“Haah...haah...haah...haah...”

Gasping for breath, Rûsa tried to not collapse on top of Maeglin out of exhaustion from both the hot water and the long love-making they had been doing, his long hair faming in her as they looked each others in the eyes.  

“I really wore you out, huh? And here the plan was to just enjoy the hot spring when we had a chance...” she asked gently, carefully letting go of him so they could get up and dry themselves from the notable in-more-ways-than-one hot bath. 

“Yes…remind me to thank Olwë about...where to find the spring...”

Rûsa fell asleep on the picnic blanket before he had finished talking, still half-dressed in only the thin summer robe and nothing else. Maeglin was not surprised over that, instead drinking little of the iced cider they had brought along. So far, the visit to Olwë in Alqualondë and some of their friends in the Avari Water Clan had been very enjoyable for the couple. Seeing that Olwë had given them a small house at the sea not too far from Alqualondë as wedding gift, it was only natural they sometimes spent the summer months there.  

“No sunburns on you, my fox prince,” Maeglin smiled as she put his strawhat over his face against the hot sun. The picnic blanket might have been placed in the shade from some trees, but she still wanted him to not be burned. As she watched her husband sleep, she thought for herself:

“It is soon time for the wedding anniversary for Cúwen and Túrëo...we better come up with a nice gift for them…?!” 

Suddenly Rûsa awoke with a start and sat up in reaction, staring at his wife in shock with wide eyes, a reaction they both shared in that moment. They both sensed it, hardly able to believe that it just had happened. 

“That…” he wished almost soundlessly, “...was  _ that _ really…?!” 

Maeglin could only nod without a sound, her hands slightly shaking in shock and wonder as she placed them on her belly, where the next generation in their family just had been created. 

“Yes…” 

Unsurprisingly because of the height difference on twenty cm between them and his greater muscle mass giving him more weight, Rûsa knocked both of them over as he threw himself on her, hugging her tightly and refusing to let go. He was so overwhelmed with different emotions that he did not know whatever to laugh or cry in pure joy.  

“Oi, Rûsa...calm down for a couple of moments, won't you? I am also happy that our plan to beget our first offspring around a fitting time for the Three Ages-anniversary for our first meeting worked as we hoped, but...would you perhaps lessen your hold on me a little?” 

“Sorry!” 

As she got free from the bear hug, Maeglin was given a very long, tender kiss by Rûsa. There was a new light in his black eyes which never would have been seen if they had been in Angband. 

“I can’t wait to see how our families will react on this news! After all, Cúwen and Yuë already have several children with Túrëo and Saira, much to the displeasure of people who would not see any of us three married…!” he laughed with pure joy like a young child. Maeglin smiled faintly at finally seeing the last shadow of Angband's horrors finally leave its nest deep in his soul, the shadow which had been his life-long old fear to father a child which would share his life as a slave.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Eöl arrived to them on a short visit to the small house two months later as he was visiting the Water Clan for some business alongside some other elves from the Metal clan. 

“Welcome, Ada. I just need to finish this cauldron that needed a repair, then I will come!” greeted Maeglin with a very happy smile from the forge that belonged to the house. 

“Do not hurry, girl, take your time or it will not end up being good,” answered Eöl in a knowing voice while entering the reading room. As he was given a glass with cold wine to drink, Eöl noticed that his law-son acted a lot more confidently than normally, even humming for himself as he fixed something to have to the wine for Eöl. Clearly the life of being a house-husband and stay-at-home artist fitted him well. 

“No doubt that they must have had a good night in bed, he is always in a such mood the day after…” Eöl thought while Rûsa offered Maeglin a reversed S-shaped saffron bun with raisins on the way back to the kitchen. That was unusual for being her, as Maeglin normally was not that fond of sweets and  Rûsa did not make sweets that often unless his many nephews and nieces was on visit with their parents. 

“Things going well home in the Metal clan?” asked Maeglin as she sat down beside her father. 

“Yeah, outside a rather annoying visit from your pious peacock of an uncle. Something rubbish about wanting to check so your mother was not unhappy with me…” Eöl muttered as he drank more of the wine. Maeglin did not say anything while she finished the bun. 

“Any other news from the other clans?”

“Sort of. Remember that Vanyarin girl Vanë who nearly took Rûsa as husband by force? It seems like she finally managed to find a husband in the youngest son of a Sindarin-Avari couple in the Sand clan. Her law-parents have promised to keep a watchful eye on her, for her past history made the whole courtship more difficult than what it otherwise would be,” answered Eöl. Maeglin relaxed immediately, for she had temporarily feared her father to tell that Vanë might have escaped from the Sand clan and could attempt to cause trouble for their marriage now when they soon planned to officially reveal her pregnancy. As Maeglin gave him some more cold wine, for it was a rather hot summer day, he asked: 

“Saw the newest paintings here in the doorway, I guess that they will be sold?”

Maeglin smiled at hearing that question. 

“Yes, to some of the Teleri nobles around, they made some requests to Rûsa earlier this summer, we earns some good money on his paintings as many of the Teleri lords are returning customers. By the way...we are going to need some help from the family in redecorate a room both here and in our house back home in Formenos,  **_Daerada_ ** .”

Eöl spit out some wine in shock over her words. 

“Goddamnit, Maeglin! That was not a funny joke! I am not that old!” he snapped in anger. Maeglin only raised a eyebrow at his reaction. 

“Does people honestly think that Rûsa and I was going to escape the infamous family fertility forever? It is almost four-hundred years since our wedding; of course you are gonna be a grandfather!” she said, holding her hands on her flat stomach to prove that she was serious. Eöl took a deep breath to calm down and to think. 

“So you planned it to happen around the anniversary for your first meeting despite the place where it happened, huh? When will that bun leave the oven?” he wondered with a faint smile. By this point, Rûsa had entered the reading room as well and gave Maeglin a hug from behind. 

“In ten months. You should be proud, it took the Fallen Maia two months to break her into betraying Gondolin, so we thought it could fit around two months after Tarnin Austa.”

“Uncle Turgon and I had our imfamous screaming match in the throne room only a few days after that feast in First Age 509...” Maeglin whispered for herself, still feeling a bit angry on Turgon even nowadays over that he had forbidden her to leave Gondolin for only a few days when she had planned to not leave Echoriad at all to indirectly still follow his orders. 

“And yet that screaming match indirectly led to our first meeting and my first real taste of that there was something else in life than living as a slave, so at least something good in the long run did came out of it after all,” Rûsa smiled tenderly at her, earning a light smack in the face from the hand fan Maeglin had picked up earlier to cool herself off a bit after working in the forge. 

“Silly husband,” Maeglin said in a fond voice. In return, she got a kiss on the cheek from Rûsa.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Tarnin Austa, meaning "Gates of Summer", was held on the first day of summer in Gondolin. Echoriad were a mountain range in the north of Beleriand, Gondolin was built in the the hidden valley named Tumladen there. Daerada means grandfather in Sindarin.


	32. An new beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the last pieces of a new life is added

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: I wish to thank my fellow fanfic writer Alystraea, for giving me the idea for female Maeglin from her own fanfic story The Golden and the Black, which can be read on FFN and AO3. And a great thanks for my beta-reader Order and Chaos - Qui Iudicant on FFN for helping me out with any grammar mistakes I may have done.

It was impossible to not notice a new change in Rûsa over the following months after that he had gotten Maeglin pregnant. He seemed much more calmer and relaxed than before. They guessed that the presence of the new life inside Maeglin was the reason.  
“Had we known that you would be like this at becoming a father, we should have tried to becomer parents sooner,” smiled Maeglin as they laid on the bed, just simply enjoying relaxation together. Rûsa, who laid with his face against her rounded stomach, chuckled when a tiny little foot kicked him lightly on the cheek.  
“Yeah, although this is fine too. We better try and get as much sleep we can, for we both knows that it will be less of sleep later in summer...” he answered as he moved upwards to place his head closer to her. Maeglin touched his hair, and out of habit started to braid it a bit since her husband began to wore it loose. She heard on his breathing that Rûsa had fallen asleep. Well, he had been up since dawn to bake some more saffron buns because she still had a faint craving for them despite that she now was almost half-way though the pregnancy at six months, so it was only right that he got to take a small nap to get energy for the afternoon.  
“Where did I place that book again...ah, there.”  
However, as Maeglin was almost at the last page in the chapter book she currently was reading, something tugged on her mind. The marriage bond, telling her that something was wrong. She did recognize the problem, Rûsa was about to enter into a nightmare about Angband.  
“Honey, please wake up…”  
Something else got to the task of stopping the nightmare before her. Pretty much invisible because of the faint light from the winter sun coming from the window, there were tiny little spiritual hands were smacking Rûsa's forehead repeatedly in a attempt to wake him up.  
“Mmm….”  
Maeglin had to smile as she felt Rûsa calm down while the nightmare left him. It seemed like she was not the only one to secretly fuss over her husband. Rolling over, Rûsa hugged her in sleep and Maeglin caressed his hair with one hand while she continued to read the last page of the book.

  
~X~X~X~X~X~X

  
The labour started early one summer morning shortly after breakfast, they had just finished washing the dishes together when Maeglin made a strange movement and hissed:  
“I think I cannot be with you all on the family picnic in our garden today...my water just broke.”  
Taking a deep breath to push down that small wave of slight worry that he had gotten by her words, Rûsa placed the last plate on its place to dry and helped Maeglin to the bath room. Just because she was going to be sweaty and rather exhausted later when it was time to start pushing, it still could be pleasant to at least try and freshen up a bit while they had a chance to do so.  
“At least it happened now in the morning before everyone has arrived and not in the middle of the picnic…and I am pretty sure that aunt Astarë will have brought her healer bag just in case something like this happened.”  
“Sounds like your aunt indeed. She has learnt a lot from having a blacksmith to both husband and son,” Maeglin muttered as he gently washed her back.  
“Yes…”

Thankfully Maedhros and Rog was the first to arrive to they home and once she heard what was going on, she offered her law-daughter to come with her while Rog offered to hear out whatever something might worry Rûsa about the coming birth.  
“I know that Maeglin is strong, but...this is a whole different thing for both of us. It was mostly pure luck that I did not manage to get her pregnant in Angband when we was forced to bond, along with that I did not...have the best of health after a malnourished life as a slave and I am pretty sure that my rough life as the Warg Rider also affected my ability to father children back then. Given that Maeglin is a distant relative, it would not surprise me if it was our shared blood that made them choose her to be my concubine,” Rûsa confessed with a slight shudder at the memory. Since Rog was one of the few who knew what really had happened between them in Angband, he could understand it somewhat. Placing a hand on his stepson's shoulder, Rog said:  
“Well, I can agree on that it would be a lot more trouble for you two here in Aman if there had been a child born between you already in the First Age. But I am really honest when I says that Maeglin would have fought with tooth and nail to keep the child, not allowing Turgon to send it away to a foster family after birth just because she would have been unable to name the father at that point.”  
Rûsa had to smile faintly, that sounded exactly like his dear wife. And given the nature of the famous screaming match between her and Turgon just before she had left Gondolin in secret, it was very possible that their already strained relationship would have been broken beyond repair if Maeglin had been pregnant in the beginning of the second month about fourteen weeks later at her return to Gondolin with no husband in sight. And there was very little chance she would have been spared a even more fate than death, if she had been with child. The few surviving she-elves who had been pregnant at the Fall of Gondolin and not managed to escape by the hidden way Idril had built in secret, had been taken away as new breeding slaves in Angband as Sauron and the armies from Angband had left Gondolin in ashes.

  
~X~X~X~X~X~X

  
Even if Maeglin had gotten her first labour pains, there was still things to set ut in the garden for the family picnic. Rûsa and Rog had just finished to bring out some of the food and drinks, when a voice was heard:  
“Uuuuuuncle Rûsa!”  
“Uh-uh, sounds like I am about to be attacked in a family group hug again...whoa!”  
Rûsa barely got to finish speaking before several Elflings in various ages, all of them somewhat dark-skinned but either having some form of golden-coloured or brown hair, jumped on him and tried to keep him from escaping by hugging whatever part of him they managed to get their hands on. It was his nephews and nieces by Cúwen and Yuë, expect for the youngest and oldest ones, who had tried to catch him in a group hug.  
“Uncle, is our cousin here yet!?”  
“Will he or she come out soon?”  
Lots of questions from nearly all of them on the same time. Well, it was really no big wonder, after all, they had awaited a whole year on the new cousin to be born.  
“We do not want to wait anymore…”  
Poor Rûsa had to fight very hard for keeping his balance with so many of the children clinging to him, or all of them would have landed in the garden pool if he tripped over.  
“Hi, uncle! Where is aunt Maeglin?” asked a golden-haired small girl, no older than perhaps seven at the most, who was having a very determined hold on his right leg.  
“Maeglin is still resting, she has gotten pretty large over the last months and needs to sleep more often now...Indilë, would you please let go of my leg before I loses my balance?”  
As Rûsa tried to get free from the Elflings who held a good hold on his legs, arms and upper body together, the parents and both their respective oldest child arrived at the gate to the garden.  
“Hello, brother. Sorry that the children jumped on you like that,” said Cúwen, trying to not laugh at the scene with her older brother and the children holding on him like that.  
“Kids, I would be much grateful if you can keep your overgrown beanstalk of a ginger-haired uncle busy today!” Maeglin called from somewhere inside the house, an order which they were only too happy to obey.  
“All right, that is enough for now.”  
Túrëo walked straight over to his law-brother and helped him to get free. Even of he could only take hold of two children, it still was two less for Rûsa to get off himself.  
“Children, please behave yourselves now.”  
At his request, Rûsa finally got free and could stand up in his full height. He loved his nephews and nieces but sometimes those group hugs could be a little difficult to deal with.

As the younger children played around in the garden, Rûsa sat down on the stone bench beside his oldest sister-daughter Aiwë, who had brought a school book with her since she was studying to become a librarian in Tirion. Her dark brown hair, inherited from the her father and the same sort of curls as her mother, made a darker full image to her slightly brown skin colour and grey eyes.  
“Are your studies going well?”  
“Yes, uncle. It is only a year left before I am finished and Master Rumil has promised to help me with the final exams.”  
It was a private joke in the House of Fëanor that no matter what, Rumil still insisted on being the first tutor for all the children in the new generation. And given his own words that they gave him a private challenge in his old age, it was most likely true. Besides, he took great pride in tutoring as many members of the royal family as he could.  
“I am sure that he is already planning for the lessons that will be taken place in this house in a few years.”  
Remembering his own first lessons with Rumil despite the understandable troubles his past life as a slave in Angband had meant and the tales of how his uncles had been as students, Rûsa could imagine the scene pretty well.  
“Most likely, yes.”  
It was not that Aiwë meant to ignore her uncle, she simply enjoyed reading and had a little difficult to stop reading a good book when she got her hands on one. Not that Rûsa minded, he was used to her ways of reading.  
“Unnnncle, can you help us get our kite back from the tree?”  
Now it was his sister-sons, Lairequen and Panion, who wanted help. Their middle sister Tantë had already tried to help them in vain as she was not so good at climbing. Lucky, it was not much effort needed from Rûsa before he had given the kite back to them.  
“Abuuu!” was heard from little Lerina as she crawled over to Yuë, who was sitting in the shade from the tree, and attempted to get his attention by smacking her little hand on his leg. It was well-known that she loved her father, often being found in his arms more often than with Saira now when she had stopped to suckle from her mother.

  
~X~X~X~X~X~X

  
By the same time Lówen showed up with her own picnic basket filled with her share of the food, Túrëo sat down beside his oldest daughter and law-brother with a faint groan of pain.  
“Phantom pains in my leg again this morning when I woke up...I was not sure if I could come here today,” he explained, holding a hand on his right leg in a attempt to lessen the phantom pains from above the metal leg at his knee, while trying to find a way to sit more comfortable.  
“Please tell if there is something you need to lessen the pain.”  
Given what kind of parents he had grown up under, It could still happen even after a hundred years of marriage to Cúwen that Túrëo tried to hide any sign of being in pain, especially if it was phantom pains in his leg that troubled him. Old habits was hard to let go off.  
“I will....Panion, please do not climb on Snowflake like that,” requested Túrëo when he saw what his youngest child was doing.  
“Yes, atar.”  
Since it now had started to become rather hot in the summer sun, Rûsa went to get some more cold drinks for everyone present. He had a good laugh at the sight of Curufin and Celegorm attempting to escape from their younger grand-nephews and grand-nieces who wanted to play with them, while Nerdanel, Rainiel and Astarë had gone into the house to help Maedhros with Maeglin. Only Cúwen and Saira stayed outside to keep a watchful eye on their younger children. However, it was trickly to keep a eye on everyone because so many of the children had a lot of energy and loved to play with each others. Since Lówen still was unmarried, no one was surprised to see her talking with Maglor about something.  
“Hey!” protested Rûsa in shock over suddenly getting water ballons filled with cold water tossed on him from above. Looking up, he saw his oldest sister-son Lairequen standing on the balcony alongside his twin cousins Nando and Sírwë, all three grinning in pride over managing to hit him.  
“You looked like you needed to be cooled off a bit, uncle!”  
“Did you already take a shower?” asked Maeglin from a window, gigging at the sight of him being wet in that manner, although her joy was somewhat damped by a new contraction and she was gently dragged back into the room by Maedhros. Muttering to himself, Rûsa pulled off his wet tunic to hang it up for drying in the sun on the clothesline. Then, feeling that his thick hair was about to escape out of the braid he had done earlier this morning, he moved his hands behind his head to braid it again.

  
~X~X~X~X~X~X

  
Several hours later, it was nearly twilight and it was time to get the younger children back home.  
“Bye, uncle! See you again tomorrow.”  
“Good-bye, everyone. Do not stay up too long because you youngesters managed to find the extra set of saffron buns that I had made!” answered Rûsa with a faint smile as he waved good-bye to his siblings and other relatives as they left with their families. Then, slowly lowing his hand as they vanished beyond the corner of the street, he thought for himself:  
“I hope that things have gone well in there…”  
The marriage bond had allowed him to sense some of the pain Maeglin had suffered during the day, and he had tried to comfort her as best as he could. Already from the very start, only a few days after the begetting, they had agreed on that Rûsa would stay out of the birth chamber because it was very likely that he would be more scared than Maeglin herself. Not because of the birth itself, it was something natural, but a very understandable fear that something might go wrong. After all, given what had happened after that Miriel had given birth to Fëanor, every new wife married into the family was watched to see if there was any sign of that it would happen again. Then, a faint cry could be heard in the evening air.  
“Rûsa? Please come in here and bring something for Maeglin to drink on the way. She is exhausted after a full day of working,” called Maedhros.  
“I am coming, ammë.”

Both the room and Maeglin herself had been cleaned up as he arrived. In her arms, two infants laid wapped in a blanket each. On each tiny little head, a amount of auburn hair was seen, made darker thanks to their pale skin.  
“You never told us that it was twins!” scolded Maedhros in a gentle voice, to which her oldest son smiled secretly as he placed the huge glass of water on the table beside the bed.  
“We wanted to surprise everyone when we realized that it was not a child but two of them. Besides, this way people would not start comment about how our family is already big enough with all of your other grandchildren in a more rude manner, ammë,” he answered while sitting down at the edge of the bed, close to his wife.  
“Hold this little lady for me, Rûsa, I can not hold them both while drinking from the glass you just brought for me,” requested Maeglin before handing over the left baby to him. Although the grey baby eyes told him that she did recognize his voice, the baby girl quickly got tear-eyed and started to wail rather loudly.  
“Ah, still that easy scared by unfamilar things as you always were in the womb, little Níreär?” asked Rûsa in a tender voice, gently rocking his daughter to soothe her. The baby boy, at hearing his sister's sudden crying, started to move his head around in confusion. The movements caused a dark port-wine birthmark to be revealed on the neck.  
“Oh? Rûsa, please look at this. It is no particular shape, but this birthmark will help people to see who is who with clothes on. They may not be that similar, being fraternal twins, but I would still not be surprised if they gets mistaken for each others now in the beginning while they still are small.”  
“Well, Eärtar will not mind that birthmark too much yet, won't you, my boy?” Rûsa wondered while touching his son's check. There was a few and strange feeling of pride in him as he looked on his two children.

  
~X~X~X~X~X~X

  
As it always is for new parents, the first week and month would be a learning time about how their children were in character. When Maeglin awoke shortly before dawn one early morning after getting a few hours of sleep to recover a little energy after nursing the twins earlier during the night, she felt that the house was a little bit too quiet. So far in their young lives, the twins did not seem to mind staying in the nursery which was wall to wall with their own bedroom.  
“Rûsa?”  
His side in the bed was still a little warm when she checked, he could not have left too long ago. And there was a faint sound of singing heard. Taking on her dressing-gown to keep herself warm, Maeglin followed the sound and soon found her husband sitting in the rocking chair, quietly singing a lullaby with one sleeping twin on each arm. Níreärë held his left thumb in her tiny hands while Eärtar had gotten hold on a part of his loose hair that he never wore braided while sleeping in night-time.  
“When in doubt, follow the singing.”  
“Shhhh, they are sleeping. Níreärë got scared by a possible nightmare earlier and Eärtar was rather determined that I would come to help,” whispered Rûsa as their son moved a bit in sleep. Maeglin smiled, then noticed to her surprise that her husband was crying.  
“What is wrong?”  
“Nothing. It is just...all of this, living in freedom while belonging to a loving family and being happy married with my own children...around this time, back in the First Age, it would have been nothing else than a impossible dream alongside my wish for freedom...I knew so little back then...my lack of knowledge of the whole thing to make someone pregnant and a lot of other things, made me terrified that I would have made you with child from our forced coupling. I was so terrified...that I would have tainted you beyond repair when I allowed you to escape from Angband back to Gondolin. Do you remember those mixes of dried herbs that I always tried to have you drink when I got my hands on them? And that it was a similar mix in the small bag I gave you before the escape? They...were herbs the slaves in Angband used to do abortions or at least cause a believeable miscarriage, a attempt to spare newly begotten children from the fate of being slaves in that hell. Even if you had survived the Fall of Gondolin...a child born between us back then…”  
He could not finish talking because of how hard he now was crying, but Maeglin got the point. She could also imagine how it could have been, if he had managed to make her pregnant in the First Age. How different things might have been just by that small change alone.  
“Not matter what, I would have protected your child if I had given birth after the Fall of Gondolin, the survivors would not have time to think of what kind of scandal it would have been, Idril told me that they focused on surviving and take themselves to Sirion. Even if we did not know that we were distant relatives at that time, I knew that it would have been impossible to hate you, because I saw myself that you were forced to do it against your own will. Do not think of what could have been. The important thing is that you are here,” Maeglin said and touched his left cheek with the V-shaped scar, the only thing on his new body that was a hint of his real past. As their parents spoke, the twins woke up. Still somewhat half-asleep, they took a more firmly hold on whatever they had managed to grab on their father. Rûsa took a deep breath to stop the crying, feeling better after revealing all of this to Maeglin as he had felt that she needed to know.  
“Yes, I am here now. And I would not have it in any other way. Not with a double blessing like this, and perhaps we even can try to have one or two more children in the future when those two are a little older. But there is one thing I will not allow any of our children to feel shame over, and that is being fathered by the former Warg Rider of Morgoth.”  
Seeing that both the twins now were awake, Rûsa smiled tenderly at them as they reached their tiny arms up towards him.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Níreärë means Sea of Tears in Quenya, while Eärtar means Sea King/Queen. They are fraternal twins, with Níreärë as the oldest twin. 
> 
> List of the four children born to Cúwen and Túrëo in birth-order:  
> Aiwë, the oldest daughter, her name means Small bird in Quenya. She is meant to be around 90 years old in-story.  
> Lairequen, the oldest son, his name means Poem Person in Quenya, about 60 years old in-story.  
> Tantë, the second daughter, her name means Harp in Quenya, she is 25 years in-story.  
> Panion, the youngest son and child, his name means Son of Carved Wood in Quenya, 15 years old in-story.  
> As they are meant to be one-eighth Africian by Cúwen, they have slightly different skin colours but they have about the same chestnut brown hair as Túrëo with some hint to red or black in it along with grey eyes. 
> 
> List of the six children born to Yuë and Saira in birth-order:  
> Lalmion, the firstborn and oldest son, his name means Son of Elm in Quenya, he is about 120 years old in-story.  
> Lossë, the oldest daughter, her name means White Blossom in Quenya, she is 70 years old in-story.  
> Nando, oldest of the male twins, his name means Valley in Quenya while the name of his twin brother Sírwë means River Being in Quenya, they are 25 years old in-story. They also happens to be a set of mixed twins, meaning that they are fraternal twins born to multiracial families which differ in skin color and other traits considered to be racial features.  
> Indilë, the second-youngest daughter, her name means Lily in Quenya, seven years in-story.  
> Lerina, the youngest child, her name means Free in Quenya. less than a year old in-story.  
> Similarly to their cousins born by their paternal aunt Cúwen, they do vary in different darker or lighter skin colours and have different varieties of golden hair inherited from the House of Finarfin while having either green or sky-blue eyes from their parents. 
> 
> Aaaaand this was the last author’s note of this story, good readers! Thanks a lot for following the Rûsa-saga under the nearly whole year that I have been writing it, I hope that you have enjoyed following Rûsa’s journey from a slave in Angband to his current life in Valinor. But worry not, this AU is far from over now when Rûsa’s own story is finished. I plan to return to this AU in the future with new stories where he is a guest-character, such as my ongoing story An Open Door with Celebrimbor and Narvi set in the Second Age. Once again, thanks for following this story to the very end and I hope that you will enjoy my future stories as well. With love, Rogercat


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